Love Bites
by obsessedwithstabler
Summary: "Carol, what's that on your neck?"
1. Love Bites

This just popped into my head while I was rewatching season three. May turn into a series of oneshots if the feedback is good. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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"What's that on your neck, Carol?"

The innocent question made Carol choke on the sip of water she had been enjoying. She looked at Carl, who was watching and waiting patiently for her explanation. Her cheeks flushed.

"Well, I… uhm…"

"You weren't bit, were you?" The boy's tone immediately became guarded.

_Oh, God_… "No, Carl, I wasn't bit."

"Then what is it?"

Luckily, Carl's father chose that moment to walk in and call for his son. Carl felt relieved as Carl eagerly jumped up and chased after his father, no doubt to interrogate him about the strange mark on Carol's neck. Not wanting to chance continuing the conversation, Carol left the room.

As she went around the corner, a pair of strong arms caught her. A hand came over her mouth before she could let out a sound.

"Shh," a familiar voice whispered, and Carol rolled her eyes, playfully nipping at his palm to get him to let go. She succeeded and spun around in his embrace, thumping his chest with a small hand.

Daryl just grinned at her cockily. "Kid's curious, ain't he?"

"You _heard_ that?"

"Course I did." He pulled her tightly against himself and nuzzled the bruise he had left on her neck the previous night.

"You have to be more careful," she admonished gently.

"Hey, I didn' hear you complainin' last night…"

A shudder went through her at the thought. "Mm…"

"Exactly." His hand slid under her shirt and up the small of her back. "You're _mine_. Jus' remember that."

Suddenly he let her go, but not before kissing her hard enough to bruise her lips. Then he touched her cheek affectionately and walked away.

Carol stared after him, her hand touching the side of her face where his hand had been.

"I'll remember that tonight!"

His only response was laughter that echoed off the walls.

"Damn you, Daryl Dixon."

The End...?

A/N: Cute, huh? Kids say the darnedest things... Thanks for reading, and please review!


	2. Green Eyes

For libfulknot, who suggested I write a jealous Daryl and a possessive Daryl sexy time. Here's your jealous Daryl! Enjoy everyone!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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2. Green Eyes

Daryl Dixon didn't get jealous.

He just didn't. Even when he was a teenager and would bring girls around, he didn't get jealous when Merle would look at them and they would eventually share his bed. He didn't get jealous when he did have a girlfriend and she would check out almost every guy who walked by, even though she was on his arm. He knew he wasn't much to look at, and truth be told, he was always on the lookout for something better as well.

No one could ever describe him as a jealous guy.

So it came as a total and complete shock to the rest of the group when, two days after returning from Woodbury, he caught Axel by the throat and held him up against the closest wall after Axel grabbed Carol's ass. Carol had yelled at him, but he just tightened his grip on the squirming man's throat and growled at him.

"Touch her again, and I'll fucking kill ya." There was no mistaking the murderous look in the younger man's eyes. "Ya got that?"

"Yes, s-sir," Axel stuttered breathlessly.

"Good." Daryl slowly released him and stalked away, but not before he grabbed Carol and kissed her hard in front of the entire group. The kiss left both of them breathless, and he gave her a pointed look.

"Yer mine. Ya hear me?"

She nodded and he let her go, then glared at the rest of the group in challenge. No one spoke or even blinked. Satisfied, he left the area and went outside to recover from the kiss.

Daryl Dixon didn't get jealous, except when he did.

The End.


	3. Curls

How I think Carol might have ended up with her short hair. Merry Christmas, everyone!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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3. Curls.

_Carol sat in front of her vanity table, running her soft bristle brush through her chestnut curls. She had always loved her long hair, and every boy she had ever dated was fascinated by it. It was down to her waist and soft to the touch. Her husband, Ed, loved it, too._

_The sound of footsteps on the stairs caught her attention. She smiled. "Ed, is that you?" she called out, setting her brush down._

_A few moments later, Ed came into the room. From the door, she could smell whiskey, and her stomach curled._

"Ed…?"

_Rough fingers caught her hair and yanked viciously. Carol cried out and was rewarded with a backhand to her mouth. She tasted blood, but she was too stunned to make a sound. Ed had a temper, but he had never hit her before. The hurt of betrayal was worse than the physical pain, and she was unable to make a sound._

_His fingers tightened even more in her hair. Effortlessly, he yanked her out of the chair and flung her onto their bed. Then he ripped her skirt and underwear off, ignoring the tears rolling down her flushed cheeks._

_The next morning, as she sat at her vanity table studying the bruises he had left on her body, she felt sick. There was a pair of scissors lying next to her lipstick. _

_Ed stirred in the bed and got up. Carol shivered as he padded over to her chair and leaned down to kiss her._

"I'm sorry about last night," _he whispered_. "I lost my temper. Forgive me?"

_She nodded numbly and he kissed her again before leaving their bedroom._

_As the door closed, she looked at the scissors again. Anger and helplessness welled up inside her chest. With shaking fingers, she grabbed the scissors, reveling in the feel of the cold metal. Then she grabbed her hair in her fist and began viciously snipping at it._

_Her tears fell as her luscious curls hit the hardwood floor._

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After cutting her hair that fateful day, Carol resolved to keep it short for good. Ed had hated it, but this way he could never grab her hair again. It had served her well after her daughter's birth, when she had no time for frivolous things like brushing or washing her hair. It was easy to maintain and she preferred to keep it so.

Then the end of the world hit, and it started to grow out. When she was able, she cut it, but sometimes it just was not feasible. She saw her long hair as a danger, a way for someone to grab her and cause her harm. The short hairstyle was freedom and a symbol of safety.

"Carol?"

Daryl's familiar, gruff voice pulled her out of her thoughts. She smiled as his rough fingers moved over her short hair. "Yeah?"

"Why's yer hair so short?"

It wasn't a subject she had exactly avoided, but she had also prepared no response for when he might ask her about it. Despite his rough and tumble exterior, he was a curious and caring man with the right circumstances and the right woman.

They were lying together on his perch. Her back was pressed up against his front, and after a moment, she turned over so she could see his face. "It's a very long story," she sighed, enjoying the feel of his fingers in her hair.

"I ain' goin' nowhere."

"No, you're not, are you?" she murmured. Her hand came up and settled on his side, just above the scar where the arrow had entered his side during his hunt for Sophia.

"Nope."

"I cut it not long after I married Ed…"

The End.


	4. Norman

After watching the midseason finale for the millionth time, I finally realized we see Norman's tattoo during the ending! I never thought they'd show it on the show, and now I'm hoping they give it a bit of background. Here is one way they could write the Norman tattoo in, inspired heavily by Zombieland. Enjoy, and merry Christmas!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Four: Norman

The first time he held little Judith, every person in the group was shocked. Every single one of them had assumed he would be the last person to hold the baby, let alone know how to comfort and care for her. What they didn't know was he _did_ have experience with babies, more than anyone would have realized.

"What are you thinking about?"

The soft words from the woman in his arms caught him by surprise. He looked down at Carol, who was snuggled into his side. "What?"

"You heard me."

His fingers ran lightly up and down her arm. "Nothin'."

Sighing, Carol moved her hand over his bare chest, and the name tattooed just over his heart. "Who is Norman?"

The unexpected question made his heart clench. How could he answer her? Was he ready to deal with that pain all over again, when he had finally managed to set it aside?

She must have sensed his hesitance to talk, because she didn't say anything else about it. He was grateful for that, at least for the night.

* * *

"He was my son."

Carol looked up at Daryl's soft, devastating words. "What?"

They were sitting outside in the cool Georgia evening. Nearly two months had passed since the incidents involving Woodbury, and almost six weeks since their first night together. She had asked him about the tattoo then, but he had been reluctant, almost afraid, to answer her.

He was still reluctant and afraid, but there was a difference now. He still had her.

"He was my son," he repeated softly. "I was eighteen when he was born. Had his name tattooed on my chest day after he was born."

Carol listened intently, enraptured.

"Lost him when he was two months old." Daryl swiped at his eyes. "Never knew…there was something in me could hurt so bad."

"Oh, Daryl…"

Those two words were enough. Crumbling, he laid his head in her lap and buried his face in the coarse material of her jeans. He felt her hands on his shoulders, rubbing gently, but he couldn't respond. And there they were, two people who had loved and lost the only people who had ever mattered to them. They were both cracked and broken, rough around the edges and filled to the brim with pain. They had seen more and felt more than anyone else in their group, and still somehow they weren't beyond being helped. They had each other, which was more than a lot of survivors could say.

They sat there for a long time in silence. Carol's hand strayed into his thick hair, and his arm went around her waist, clinging to her with a ferocity that was foreign to him. The memory of his son's face emerged, misty and water-colored.

_I'm sorry, son._

The End.


	5. You Give Me Fever

Oddly enough, this one was inspired by Peggy Lee's Fever. Lots of hurt/comfort here. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Five: You Give Me Fever

"Are you okay, Carol?"

Carol looked up to see Beth's face hovering worriedly over hers. She frowned as her head throbbed steadily. "I'm fine," she insisted as she lifted herself out of the bottom bunk. She had overslept; she could tell by the level of activity currently happening outside of her cell.

Beth watched her curiously. "You don't look well."

It was true; she didn't feel well, either. But there was work to be done. Judith needed looking after, clothes needed to be washed, meals needed to be prepared… Her stomach churned miserably as she took a few wobbly steps.

She had started feeling unwell the previous night, just after dinner. The group had eaten canned ham, and at first, she had just thought the nausea was from the meat not settling well with her, in combination with exhaustion and lack of a proper diet. Then there was the fact that Daryl was still missing, even though it had been nearly a week since Glenn, Maggie, Rick, and Michonne had returned to the prison.

Her knees suddenly buckled, giving out beneath her. She heard Beth's frightened voice shouting for her father, and Carol wanted to tell her to be quiet. Either she just needed to rest, or she was dying and she would be reunited with Sophia and Daryl.

Either scenario was appealing, she decided as the darkness crashed into her.

* * *

Heat. It was everywhere, threatening to envelop and destroy her. Her house had caught on fire once, when Sophia was just a baby. She had grabbed Sophia from her crib and ran out of the house, leaving Ed asleep in their bed. At first she had been relieved, watching the house go up in flames. But then Ed had stumbled out of the house, and she realized there would never be an escape for her.

The burning intensified, scorching and licking at her skin. She opened her mouth and tried to cry out, but no sound emerged. This was it. She was going to die.

"Carol…"

A familiar voice broke through the heat, a voice so disarming and hypnotizing. A voice belonging to a man she was so certain had died.

Suddenly something cool and calming was pressed against her forehead, and water was brought to her lips. She drank greedily until it was taken away. She whimpered a protest, but then arms were around her and she felt so safe…

"Carol, c'mon. Don' go."

Her eyes stung, but she finally forced them open. Daryl's face hovered above hers, and the fire made him glow. She smiled weakly. "Angel…" He was an angel, one with broken wings and a halo in desperate need of polishing.

Daryl gave her a crooked smile. "Nah. Jus' me."

A weak chuckle vibrated through her chest. "Thought… thought you were dead…"

"Gonna take more than that to kill me."

She winced as he adjusted her until she was reclining against his chest. He smelled of earth, blood, and something unique to him. "Don' leave me again…"

A shudder went through her when she felt his dry, rough lips on her forehead.

"Wouldn' dream of it."

* * *

A couple of days later, Carol was back on her feet. To her surprise, Daryl had brought his brother with him, a move not appreciated by Maggie and Glenn, as well as the rest of the group. She didn't particularly like Merle, but she was willing to tolerate him for Daryl's sake. When she thought he was dead, she would have given anything to see him one more time. Now he was back and alive, and she would do whatever she had to do to keep him close.

He had stayed by her while she was sick, even going as far as staying in her cell with her to keep an eye on her. The rest of the group checked on her as well, but they never stayed long after seeing Daryl sitting with her. She barely remembered the first night, but the feeling of his arms around her stayed with her, through the heat and the fire.

He was an angel, her angel with the broken wings.

The End.


	6. Payback

Glenn and Maggie get a little revenge on Daryl. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Six: Payback

"Where's Daryl and Carol?"

The question caught Glenn by surprise. He looked at his girlfriend, then at Rick, who seemed to be growing impatient. "I think they're up in the guard tower."

"What the hell?" Rick grumbled. "They were up there last night, weren't they?"

"They were," Maggie confirmed, an impish smile appearing on her face. She stepped around the men and cupped her hands around her mouth so her voice would carry. "Daryl! Carol!"

Glenn suddenly realized this scene felt very familiar.

A moment later, Carol poked her head out of the guard tower. "What is it, Maggie?"

"Daryl with you?"

Glenn all but fell to pieces when a shirtless Daryl Dixon appeared behind Carol. Daryl didn't even look guilty. In fact, he looked quite proud of himself as he scowled at the group.

"The hell ya'll want?"

"We're going on a run!" Maggie replied. "You two comin'?"

Glenn looked at the dirt as he tried to suppress a laugh.

"What?"

"Are you two comin'?" Maggie repeated, drawing out the last word purposefully.

Daryl pulled his shirt on. "Hold yer horses," he barked. He made a show of grabbing Carol's ass as he walked by her on his way to the ladder.

Payback was a bitch, and he would certainly pay for it later, Glenn mused as he watched Daryl and Carol climb down from the guard tower.

But, oh, it was sweet.

The End.


	7. Furball

Update! There's a very special guest appearance in this one. :D Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Seven: Furball

Daryl hated that damn cat.

A year or so ago, he had found the scrawny thing by the prison fence, and he had presented it to Carol as a Christmas gift. She had proclaimed it was a girl and named it Dixie, and ever since then, the wretched cat had been nothing but a pain in his ass.

Whenever he was on the lookout perch, Dixie would climb up and meow at him relentlessly. And when he found Carol in her cell, the damn cat would growl at him if he got too close to her. He had scratch marks all over his arms from different times when he and Carol tried to kiss, and the damn furball would hiss and attack him.

Dixie didn't seem to like him, and he sure as hell didn't want to tolerate her. But she made Carol happy, and he was reluctant to take her happiness away.

One particularly cold night, after coming off his watch and checking on Merle, he headed to his perch and was delighted to find Carol already lying on his pallet. She had brought her blankets and added them to his, making a particularly cozy looking makeshift bed. He couldn't help the smile tugging at his mouth as he set his crossbow down before lowering himself beside Carol.

Carol stirred and yawned as he crawled beneath the blanket and snuggled into her side. "Hey…"

He grunted softly and draped his leg over hers. He started to wrap his arm around her, but a familiar growling caused him to hesitate. "Goddamn cat," he grumbled.

Carol just smiled sleepily. "She doesn't hate you."

"Yeah, she does." But as he said those words, the damn cat crawled over Carol and settled between them, purring noisily. Daryl snorted and gave the cat an evil look.

Dixie raised her head and chirped at him, then snuggled into Carol's neck and promptly went to sleep.

Huffing, Daryl grasped Carol's hip and pulled her closer.

Goddamn cat.

The End.

A/N: Oh, Daryl and that crazy cat. Would you guys like to see more of Dixie? Review and let me know!


	8. Scars

Here we get a little deeper into the angst. I don't own Papa Roach's Scars. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Nine: Scars

_And the scars remind me_

_That the past is real_

Scars. Everyone had them. They were physical or they were emotional, but they were there. They were a fact of life, just like loving and being hurt. They came from cruel hands or cruel hearts, losing and falling over and over. Scars were a fact of life, so why was he struggling so hard with the sight of hers?

In the dead of night, when Rick or Michonne was on watch and he could grab a few hours of sleep, Daryl often found himself going to his woman and curling up with her. Sometimes the embrace turned more physical, and it was only then he caught sight of the numerous scars scattered all over her back and shoulders. He recognized some of them as cigarette burns and others as flesh being pressed against a hot stove. Some came from a belt, and some came from the broken end of a beer bottle. Others, too many to count, he couldn't identify and he didn't want to. He hated Ed Peletier for inflicting those scars on Carol. Sometimes he found himself wishing he had been there to stop the sick son of a bitch. But it was all over now. The prick was dead, had been for years, and Daryl had Carol. He would keep her safe until it killed him. And even then, he was sure God would allow him to protect Carol.

His rough fingers traced one scar in particular, on her right shoulder. It was long and white, obviously long healed. He cared for her, but he still didn't feel right prying into her past. She felt the same way, and he was grateful for it. She was broken like him, but the world hadn't been able to destroy her completely.

"Daryl?"

Her sleepy voice caught him off-guard. "Hmm?"

She snuggled closer to his chest, draping her arm lazily over him. "They don't hurt anymore."

His fingers paused against the rough, healed over skin. "Ya sure?" he breathed, bringing his mouth down to nuzzle her shoulder.

"Yeah. I'm sure." She caught his lips in a sweet, all-consuming kiss.

He had no idea how she was able to do this to him every time she kissed him, but he wasn't going to complain. He had never had a woman like this, like her. No one else could understand him and at the same time not try to fix him. He was beyond fixing, but he was still able to care about another human being. He cared about her.

Scars were a fact of life, especially in this dangerous new world. But as long as he had her, the scars weren't so bad.

The End.


	9. Brown Eyes

Update! Here we take a peek into the possible future. I don't really think Rick would ever abandon Judith, but then I didn't think he would go crazy and ignore her and Daryl would step up. So anything's possible. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Nine: Brown Eyes

She had brown eyes.

They had started out as blue, and everyone had let out a collective breath of relief. But then a few weeks after her birth, her eyes had opened to reveal the shift from cerulean to chocolate.

Rick had pretended not to notice, as did the rest of the group except for Daryl. Daryl truly didn't care. He loved the baby regardless of her parentage. And his love for her came in handy when Rick suddenly disappeared from the prison, taking Carl along with him.

Daryl had immediately laid claim to the baby, announcing to everyone within earshot that she was his and if they had a problem with it, they could take it up with him. No one said a word.

No one said a word when Carol started sleeping on the perch with Daryl and the baby. They didn't say a word when Daryl began referring to Carol as his woman, and they damn sure didn't say a word when Carol started calling him Daddy around the baby.

Over the months, the group began to dwindle. They lost Hershel first, then Beth, and Daryl wasn't surprised when they woke up one day to find Maggie and Glenn long gone.

"Daddy!"

A little voice stirred Daryl from his daydream. Judith came running at him and leapt into his arms, giggling wildly. She was three or four, as best as Daryl could guess, and the best thing he had in his life, with the exception of Carol. Her errant brunette curls framed her chubby little face, and her chocolate eyes looked at him with adoration and complete trust.

"Wha's wrong?" he questioned, tucking her little body close to his chest.

"Me an' Mommy are playin' hide 'n see!" she explained breathlessly. "Hide me!"

He looked over to the line of trees surrounding the property they had stumbled upon two years ago. At the time, they had been on the run for a month. The rest of the group was long since gone, lost to death or scattered to the corners of the world. Daryl didn't really care. He had Carol and Judith, and they were more than enough for him. They had found the farm and secured it, just the two of them. Between what was already there, their routine scavenging trips, and his hunting, they made this new place a home. Their home.

Getting to his feet with Judith, Daryl made a beeline for the trees, grinning devilishly. He could hear Carol calling for Judith playfully, pretending she had no idea where the little girl was.

"Okay, kid, time for you to really learn how to play hide 'n seek."

The End!


	10. Whelp

This chapter was written for MarionArnold, for sending in the fiftieth review on this story! Thanks, Marion, and I hope this one meets your approval! :D

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Ten: Whelp

Leave it to Judith to find the only surviving dog in their world gone to hell.

Daryl was sitting on his perch, meticulously cleaning his arrows, when he heard Judith squeal. Out of habit, he jumped to his feet, his bow ready to fire. "Judith?" he called out, his entire body tense and ready for a fight. Judith was two years old and the most precocious toddler he had ever seen. He absolutely adored her, and everyone in the group knew she had him wrapped around her little finger.

A few moments later, Judith came into his line of sight. His brow furrowed when he saw a muddy ball of fur following alongside her. As they came closer, he realized what she had found.

A dog. A goddamn dog.

Setting his bow down, Daryl climbed down from his perch and trotted over to the young girl. "Judith…"

She beamed up at him, her little hand resting on the mutt's head. "Doggy, Daryl!"

"I see him," he muttered, taking in the dog's bedraggled appearance. It couldn't have been more than three or four months old, but Daryl could tell by the size of its paws that it was going to be a huge dog. It was filthy, so he could only guess at its breed, but it looked like a retriever or a Labrador of some sort.

Dixie, the cat Daryl had given to Carol just after Judith was born, chose that moment to saunter out of her hiding place. Upon seeing Judith's new companion, the cat arched her back and hissed.

The puppy, clearly pleased at the sight of a new companion or squeak toy, let out a yip and darted over to Dixie.

Enraged, Dixie swiped at the puppy and took off, yowling her displeasure.

Daryl groaned and shook his head.

Leave it to Judith to find the only surviving dog in their world gone to hell, and leave it to him to let her keep the mangy thing.

The End!


	11. Breathe

Just a little reminder to everyone: these oneshots are in no particular order or universe. If they are in any way connected to a previous oneshot or story, I'll be sure to mention it at the start. And back into the angst we go!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter: Breathe

It was their own fault, really.

They had been too trusting, too naïve. Carl had only had the best of intentions when he guided them to safety, away from the snarling and snapping teeth. He had saved the whole group, and what did they get?

Carol groaned as she picked herself up off of the floor. The last thing she could remember was Sasha coming at her with a shovel. Spotting a gun lying abandoned on the floor, she grabbed it with shaky hands and began searching for whoever remained of her group.

As she made her way through the cell block, she stumbled upon the bodies of Beth and Hershel, and her heart clenched. Two more friends, loved ones to mourn. Two more to bury. She checked their pulses just in case, but they were both cold. Trembling, she continued on. Where were Rick and Carl? Maggie and Glenn? She felt sick. Judith. Daryl.

A strange sound from one of the cells caught her attention and she moved toward the sound, her steps light and precise, just as Daryl had taught her. Finally she reached the source of the noise. She peered into the cell to see Tyreese holding someone's head in the cell's toilet. Her heart started to beat overtime in her chest when she recognized who he was holding down.

Daryl.

With a guttural cry, Carol rushed forward and took aim. Tyreese released Daryl as Carol pulled the trigger, over and over, until Tyreese slumped to the floor, dead. Then, with strength Carol didn't know she possessed, she grabbed Daryl and dragged him out of the cell, into the open. She could hear the familiar shouts of Glenn and Rick, but they didn't register with her. All she could see was Daryl, his eyes closed and lips blue from a lack of oxygen. "Daryl…" She quickly rolled him onto his back and pinched his nose with her fingers. Then she covered his mouth with hers and breathed into him before she began chest compressions.

"One, two, three," she muttered, forcing all of her weight behind each move. "Come on, Daryl. Breathe!"

Behind her, the remaining members of their group began to gather. Glenn held tight to Maggie, who was cradling Judith, and Carl stood stoic beside them. Rick moved to the opposite side and knelt down across from Carol, his brow furrowed with worry. But Carol didn't notice any of them. Her attention was on Daryl, and only Daryl. The roughneck had forced his way into her life and wormed himself into her heart without even trying. She couldn't lose him now. Time ceased to hold any meaning as she continued to try to bring him back, to fight for him.

"Carol…" Rick's voice was hesitant as he finally reached out to her.

She knew exactly what he was going to say. "No!" she snarled breathlessly, her hands on Daryl's chest.

"He's…"

Daryl suddenly jerked, and Carol was horrified when Rick whipped out his gun and aimed it at Daryl's head. Daryl's eyes flashed open as he groaned and coughed, gagging as water poured from his mouth and nose. Carol gave Rick an evil look. Her hands shot out and eased Daryl onto his side to help him breathe easier. "Take it easy," she murmured, patting his back absently.

Glenn let out a relieved breath and pulled Maggie even closer.

After a few steadying breaths, Daryl rasped, "Best put the gun away, Rick…"

Carol laughed, but her eyes were cold as Rick sheepishly tucked his gun away.

"Glad you're okay, brother," he muttered as he got to his feet.

Daryl snorted but didn't object when Carol lifted his head into her lap and cradled it there.

Not caring who could see, Carol slid her free hand under his shirt and placed it over his beating heart. She had almost lost him. Technically, she had lost him, but by some miracle she was able to revive him. She had been granted a second chance with him, when she hadn't been with Sophia. She felt a mixture of relief, gratitude and anger, but relief was winning. She cradled Daryl close and leaned down to brush her lips over his forehead.

He looked up at her, still groggy. "Ya ain' gonna lose me that easy," he whispered hoarsely.

Letting out a strangled laugh, Carol rocked him back and forth as Rick called out to the others and they formed a plan to deal with the surviving members of Tyreese's group. But for the moment, Carol didn't care.

She had Daryl.

The End.


	12. Nightmare

You guys responded so well to the last chapter and Carol taking care of Daryl, I decided to write another Carol protects Daryl oneshot. This time, she's protecting him from a not-so-physical threat. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Twelve: Nightmare

_Daddy, stop_!

Daryl's eyes flashed open, his chest heaving. He sat up in the dark and rubbed furiously at his eyes. Damn those dreams.

A familiar hand reached out and lightly touched his shoulder, causing him to shudder involuntarily.

"Daryl…?"

Breathing deeply, he turned his head and found himself looking into the deepest blue eyes he had ever seen. Carol smiled back at him, her hand absently squeezing his shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded as the nightmare's grip slowly loosened on his conscious mind. He had always suffered from nightmares, and Merle had mercilessly tortured him for it. The first time he had one after he had started sharing his bed with Carol, he had fully expected her to turn away in disgust. But she hadn't. Instead, she had drawn him closer, as though she could shield him from the misery of his own subconscious. He never believed she could, but having here there beside him helped slay some of his demons. She was a salve for his damaged soul.

"Come here…" Shifting onto her side, Carol tugged on his arm until he was lying back down beside her. Then she draped her arm over his abdomen and drew him against her so her chest was pressed up against his back.

He didn't realize how cold he was until he felt her warmth and her arm around him. He exhaled deeply and settled his hand over her hers. He brought their hands up to his lips and lightly kissed her fingers. He wasn't a man of words, but of actions, and it seemed to be just fine with her. It was one of the reasons why they fit so well together, both emotionally and physically.

Her breath ghosted across his neck. "Better?" she whispered, her nose nuzzling his skin.

"Yeah…" How did she seem to know exactly what he needed, when half the time he didn't even have a clue? It had to be fate, he decided as his eyelids grew heavy and Carol draped her leg over his so they were tangled together.

The last thing he heard was Carol's voice moments before exhaustion swept him into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

"Sleep well, Daryl."

The End.


	13. First Words

This was probably one of my very favorite chapters to write. I really hope everyone enjoys it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter: First Words

"Carl. Carl."

Daryl listened as the boy drawled out his name while watching his little sister, who was sitting on his knee and beaming up at him. Baby Judith was adored by the entire group, but Daryl had the biggest soft spot for her, whether he would admit it or not.

The group was eating breakfast in peace for once. He had tracked and brought down a deer the previous night, and everyone was enjoying the spoils for breakfast. Maggie and Glenn sat close together, while Beth sat near her father and Rick enjoyed his breakfast next to his son and daughter. Carol, the perpetual mystery (at least to Daryl) was eying the group with a knowing smile as she savored her deer meat. Daryl sat off by himself, trying not to be noticed as he kept a watchful eye on baby Judith.

"Come on, Judy! You can do it," Carl encouraged. Rick had been regaling his son with tales from his babyhood, and since Judith was at least nine months old, everyone was quite certain she would be talking soon. Daryl even noticed bets had been placed on what her first word would be. He never said anything; just scowled and went about his business. He couldn't deny, however, his own curiosity as to what Judith's first word might be.

Judith giggled and chewed on her fist. Carl sighed and handed her over to their father. "I give up."

"She'll get there, son. Be patient. Your first word was cup."

Carl looked horrified. "Was not!"

"Beth's first word was cow," Maggie informed the group with a teasing smile.

"And Maggie's first word was cookie. Her mother was furious." Hershel chuckled.

"Sophia's was no," Carol said softly. "Any time I asked her a question, the answer was, 'No'."

"Typical woman," joked Glenn. He let out an oof as Maggie drove her elbow into his gut.

Daryl just shook his head and stood up as the group continued to chatter. He didn't notice Judith as she turned and watched him with big blue eyes.

"Daryl."

The group fell silent and Daryl turned around as the tiny voice chirped his name.

Beth and Maggie unanimously asked, "Did she just…?"

Clearly pleased, Judith clapped her chubby hands together. "Daryl! Daryl!" Her voice was almost sing-song as she repeated her word over and over.

Daryl's expression was unreadable as he made his way over to Rick and knelt down so he was face to face with Judith. "'Scuse me?"

Judith laughed and reached out to him, thrilled with her results. "Daryl!"

Daryl took her into his arms as Carl grumbled and money changed hands. Too focused on the baby in his arms, he didn't notice Carol's expression or Hershel's knowing smile. He pressed his forehead against Judith's, and her hands came up and touched his stubbled cheeks.

"M'Daryl!"

"All yours, sweetheart," he agreed softly, not caring who could hear him. He hugged Judith and kissed her head.

"All yours."

The End!


	14. Step by Step

Another cute chapter featuring Daryl and Judith. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Fourteen: Step by Step

Carol was beginning to worry.

Standing over the makeshift table, she began clearing away the plates used at dinnertime. Rick had offered to help, but she had gently refused. He seemed to sense she wanted something to distract her. Daryl had left four days ago to go hunting, and he still wasn't back. This wasn't unlike him, but it also wasn't like him. The longest had stayed gone since they claimed the prison as their own was three days. She understood he needed his space, but she missed him more than she let on.

A tug on her pants leg drew her out of her thoughts. She looked down to see Judith sitting by her foot and smiling brightly. Carol couldn't help smiling in return. "Hi, sweetheart."

Judith smiled and looked around. Carol's smile faded. She knew the little girl was looking for Daryl. Judith loved her father and brother, but she adored Daryl and had followed him ever since she figured out how to crawl. Now she was lost without Daryl nearby.

Carol understood her sadness all too well. "He'll be back soon, baby."

As she spoke those words, a gruff voice called out, "Where the hell is everybody?"

Both Carol and Judith turned to see Daryl slowly sauntering across the floor. Judith let out a squeal and pulled herself to her feet using Carol's leg as leverage. Then, to Carol and Daryl's surprise, she launched herself toward Daryl, arms out and her unruly curls flying.

Clearly surprised but pleased, Daryl dropped to his knee and held his arms out, watching Judith run as fast as her little feet could carry her. When she was almost in his arms, she suddenly pitched forward, her feet flying out from underneath her. Daryl easily caught her and brought her to his chest, hugging her tightly as he stood upright again. "When'd she start walkin'?" he drawled as Carol closed the distance between them.

"Just now," Carol replied, gently touching his arm. "I'm glad you're back."

His shock was evident as he looked at the baby nestled into his chest. Her tiny fingers gripped the grimy material of his shirt. "Wow…"

Carol smiled tenderly and lightly kissed his stubbled cheek.

"Welcome back, Daryl."

The End.


	15. Bump

Before we get started with number fifteen, I'd like to say a heartfelt thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. This story has 92 reviews, and I love each and every one of them. So thank you guys, and here's hoping this chapter hits the 100 review mark! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Fifteen: Bump

Well, this had been a world of trouble.

Carol looked around the small cave and shook her head. Just hours before, she and Daryl had been out on a hunting trip to find dinner for the group. Everything had been just fine; they moved in silence amidst the trees, somehow able to communicate without a single word. She wondered at the feat, but never questioned it. Then the rain came, hard and violent, and in their attempt to get back to the prison, Daryl had lost his footing in the mud and crashed to the ground. He never cried out in pain, but when he tried to stand up again, his leg gave out beneath him. Only Carol's hands had kept him from landing in the mud again. The rain hadn't affected the walkers; Carol could hear the pained growls in the distance. Without Daryl being able to walk unaided, they were in a lot of trouble. But they couldn't just stay there and risk an encounter with the dead. Ignoring Daryl's griping, Carol had pulled his arm around her shoulders and they were off, slipping and skidding in the mud but somehow managing to remain upright.

She was the one who spotted the cave's entrance. It was by pure luck she even noticed it. The entrance was overgrown and there was a chance something was living in it, but the groans were getting closer and she could see no other choice. So she shoved Daryl into the cave's entrance first and looked over her shoulder. She couldn't see them, but she could smell them even over the rain. Swearing, she followed Daryl into the cave's tiny entrance, taking time to make sure nothing had followed them. Nothing had, and finally she crawled over to Daryl.

The cave was small and the ceiling of it was low enough that they couldn't stand upright. But it was empty, as Carol discovered after she made a thorough search of the area.

Daryl leaned against the wall, watching her with pained eyes. "Merle'll find us," he said confidently, shaking his head of excess rain water.

Satisfied with the safety of their temporary shelter, Carol began ringing her clothes out. Even though they had only been in the rain a few minutes, they had both been soaked. "I'm sure he will." The group was still wary of Merle, but he was slowly proving his worth to the group. "But in case he doesn't, I'll go for help when the rain lets up."

"Hell you will! I ain' lettin' you go out there alone."

"Daryl, at the very least you have a severely sprained ankle. You're not in any shape to move, let alone fend off walkers." She made her way back to him and sat down just a few inches away. She could feel his heat radiating off of his body, and it finally registered how cold she was. It was spring time, but the air was still cool, especially when it rained. Why couldn't they have gotten trapped just a few weeks later, when the rain was muggy and no one risked hypothermia by being out in it?

"Woman, I ain' sittin' 'round here…"

"You will," Carol snapped, unable not to notice his shivering. Damn it… "Come here."

He whipped his head toward her, his eyes shining with pain and…fear? "Huh?"

She held her arm out and grasped his shoulder. Then she gently tugged, fully prepared for him to knock her hand away. But he didn't. To her surprise, he leaned into her and rested his head on her shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered as their combined body heat warmed both of them.

"Shuddup," he replied quietly.

Carol couldn't help smiling as he relaxed against her. The rain continued to fall in torrents outside, but for the moment, they were safe.

* * *

"Darylina!"

Daryl and Carol both startled awake at the sound of Merle's voice. Carol had fallen asleep shortly after Daryl, and as they slept, their positions had shifted. Daryl was lying flat on his back, his arm loosely wrapped around Carol, who had fallen asleep with her head on his chest. They both flushed red at the intimate position, but neither of them said anything as they reluctantly untangled themselves and Daryl called out to his brother.

A few moments later, Merle poked his head into the cave's tiny entrance. "There ya are! Thought the walkers mighta gotcha after all!"

Daryl grumbled and reluctantly allowed Carol to help him out of the cave. Merle stood close, and he wasn't alone. Glenn and Rick were with him too.

Carol was reluctant to let go of Daryl, and he seemed to sense her reluctance, because he leaned more heavily against her.

Merle stepped up to them and reached out for his brother. "C'mon, Darylina. We gotta getcha back to the prison."

Daryl shied away from his brother's hand. "'m good."

Rick and Glenn exchanged knowing looks, while Merle scratched his head in confusion.

"Come on, Daryl." Carol gently tugged on Daryl and started walking with him. Glenn stepped up to the opposite side and slid his arm under Carol's. Together they supported Daryl, despite his occasional groan and complaint about not needing help.

Once they were within sight of the prison, Merle finally spoke up.

"So, you two bump uglies while ya were gone?"

The End.

A/N: This is the longest chapter to date, but certainly not the last. But I would love some feedback from you guys. Anyone out there have any suggestions for a chapter? Let me know, thanks for reading, and happy birthday to our Norman Reedus!


	16. Reckless

I am in awe of you guys! Seriously, you're all so amazing! Thank you for 16 reviews for a single chapter! After a thirteen hour school day, ya'll have no idea what it means to me! :D Okay, many of you guys asked for more Caryl and more Daryl and Judith, so I'm hoping this will make all of you smile! Thank you again!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Sixteen: Reckless

Reckless was the only word he could use to describe it.

Reckless, inconsiderate, idiotic, dangerous… He was a regular walking dictionary when it came to his feelings on this topic. It never should have come to this, not in the world they were living in when things came back from the dead and attempted to eat them on a regular basis. And yet, it had happened, against all odds and his own sense of self-preservation and common sense.

"Daddy!"

Daryl looked up from the deer he was gutting. Close to seven years had passed since the first outbreak and the world had gone all to hell. It was only three years ago that the cure had been found and it took a year for the survivors of the human race to exterminate the walkers. As best as anyone could guess, three quarters of the world's population had been wiped out by the virus. Things were finally returning to some sense of normalcy, but in reality, things would never really be normal again. Their definition of normal had been completely changed, and what he once thought of as normal would never be the way again.

Judith bounded up to him, her unruly brunette curls flying carelessly behind her. Just a few feet away, following her sister, was three year old Rosie, or Cherokee Rose, as she was called whenever she happened into mischief. Somewhere he could hear his two year old son Daryl Junior fighting with his younger brother Jacob Merle over a toy. Again his mind drifted to the not so distant past, when condoms had been the last thing on his mind after Carol told him she didn't think she could bear more children. Apparently she had been wrong.

"Whatcha want, Jude?"

"Mama says Maggie's gonna have her baby!"

He looked down at the deer in front of him. This baby would be the fourth for Glenn and Maggie, and they all knew with a house full of girls, Glenn was praying for a boy. They were the only five left of their group; Carol, Maggie, Glenn, Judith, and himself. They had beaten all of the odds and somehow survived and even thrived. Now, as the world returned to a somewhat state of calm, Daryl was still the same. His family came first, and he eliminated any threat to them.

"Okay, I'm comin'. Gotta finish the deer."

"Kay!" Judith took off again, with Rosie still right behind her. Daryl smiled.

It was stupid, reckless, irresponsible, and a whole list of words like those not to have been more careful, but if being careful meant not having any of his children, he would take stupid and reckless over safe any day.

The End.

A/N: Thank you guys again for reading and all your lovely reviews!


	17. The P Word

This chapter is for **Guest, Nova802, Klaineisbrav**e, and **Tangz**, who all asked to see more of Caryl's offspring, as well as a continuation of the universe in the Reckless chapter. I edited Reckless slightly to make it fit. Here you go, guys! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Seventeen: The P Word

Idiots.

Daryl watched as Glenn and Maggie fussed over their newborn daughter. Isabella Margaret Rhee was a week old and adored by the entire group, what remained of it.

Without thinking, he ran his hand over Judith's curly hair. She was sitting on his knee, quietly playing with a rag doll Carol had made for her. Just the thought of Carol made something stir deep within him. It didn't feel like it, but it had been nine months since his return from Woodbury and the subsequent attack on the prison. They had held their own and eventually defeated the survivors of Woodbury, but the victory hadn't come without a cost. They had lost Beth and Hershel during the fight, and for a while, Daryl had thought Glenn and Maggie might leave the prison on their own to escape their loss and the pain of the memories. But they had stayed, and it wasn't long before Maggie made the announcement that had resulted in Glenn passing out and hitting the floor.

She was pregnant.

He snorted at the memory. It was an inevitability, he supposed, but they were young and impulsive and being careful about birth control wasn't high up on their list of priorities, as much as it should have been. He was glad he was more careful with Carol. The first time they spent the night together was after a hunt gone wrong. Rain had trapped them in the area, forcing them to seek shelter in a small cave. He had never intended it to happen, but wasn't it the way of love? After that one night, she had become his. They didn't need anything special, but during a run, he had found two simple gold bands in an abandoned store. He hadn't gotten down on his knee or used flowery words. He had just handed her the ring, and just like that, he was hers and she was his.

"Daryl?"

A slow smile spread across his lips as his woman called his name. Setting Judith on the ground, he turned toward Carol. She wore an expression of discomfort and worry, and immediately he was on edge. "What is it? Ya okay?"

"I'm pregnant."

Maggie and Glenn turned their heads at the dull thud. Carol looked stunned, one hand absently resting over her flat abdomen as she nudged her husband where he lie passed out on the floor.

"Oh, great."

The End.


	18. When One and One Make Three

Another one for the Reckless universe! Everyone asked to see Daryl's reaction to Carol giving birth, and I was inspired! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Eighteen: When One and One Make Three

It was a mess.

Blood was everywhere, bodily fluids spattered the floor and any clothing within proximity, and Daryl could hear his own heart beating furiously in his ears. Was this really happening? Could he really handle all of the ways his life was about to change?

He didn't really have much of a choice now.

"Okay, Daryl, I can see the baby's head. Carol, keep pushing. You're doing great," Rick reassured from his position at the foot of Carol's mattress.

Carol nodded, breathing heavily.

Daryl crossed his arms and watched over Rick's shoulder. Carol had been in labor for the better part of the day. To her credit, she had not screamed as much or as loudly as Daryl had anticipated. But to be safe, Glenn , Michonne and Andrea were outside, making sure to quickly dispatch of any walkers drawn to the area by Carol's cries. Daryl's mind was already in overdrive and his need to protect his woman and his unborn child was almost overwhelming.

"Good girl, good girl…"

Daryl's eyes bulged as he watched his child's head appear. Rick helped ease the shoulders out, and suddenly their baby, his baby, was there.

Rick quickly cleared the baby's mouth and nose, and everyone seemed to hold their breath until the baby let out an indignant squeal and flailed her arms. Rick broke out in a huge grin and cleaned her up as best as he could before wrapping her in a clean baby blanket that Daryl had procured. "She looks just fine."

"She?" Daryl finally managed. He was stunned. He didn't have a sister or girl cousins, and in his mind, he always referred to the baby as a boy. What the hell was he gonna do with a girl?

Rick moved up to Carol's head and laid the squalling baby in her arms. "Here she is, Carol. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Rick," Carol whispered, her eyes focused on her daughter.

Rick stood up and squeezed Daryl's shoulder affectionately. "Congratulations, Dad."

"Dad," Daryl repeated dazedly. He was a father, and to a baby girl, no less. His knees buckled slightly.

"Daryl," Carol called out gently. "Come meet your daughter."

His legs carried him to her side against his will. He looked at the baby in her arms. She was red and squirmy, just like Judith had been. And he had kept Judith alive for almost two years now. She adored him, too. Whenever she was frightened or needed attention, it wasn't her father she sought. It was Daryl. She adored him, and he felt the same affection for her.

"Can I…?" His voice trailed off, unable to continue his request, but Carol understood. He sat down on the edge of the bed and Carol placed their daughter in his arms.

The rest of the world seemed to melt away as he held his daughter up and studied her red little face. Her cries subsided slowly and she opened her eyes, and it was like Daryl was looking into a mirror. Letting out a breath, he brought her to his chest and absently patted her back.

"So, yer the little thing tha' kicks me when I try to snuggle with yer mama."

The baby squirmed against him and made a soft noise that tugged at his heart, just as Judith had.

God help him, cause he was in trouble. He looked at Carol and smiled.

Oh, he was in trouble big time.

The End!


	19. Nothing Ever Lasts

A quick Carol introspection while she lies beside Daryl. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Nineteen: Nothing Ever Lasts

Nothing ever lasts.

Carol knew it. Her childhood didn't last, the little scrap of happiness in the beginning of her marriage didn't last, and the bruises didn't last. And all of those were in the past world, before the walkers had rose up and completely taken over. In the former world, good things didn't last, and the bad things didn't last. It was just a matter of how long they went on before they ended. But in this new world, nothing at all lasted. People died gruesome, brutal deaths, life was a constant battle, and she just couldn't see the point. She had lost her husband, then her precious little Sophia was stolen from her.

Nothing ever lasts.

She turned over on her makeshift bed and stared into the darkness. Somewhere she could hear Maggie and Glenn whispering to each other, no doubt reassuring one another they were in fact still alive. They were really all each other had. Carol rubbed at her eyes, feeling Daryl shift beside her in his sleep. He was a very light sleeper, and she half-expected him to wake up. Sometimes he just seemed to know whenever something was keeping her awake. He wasn't good with words, but he was amazing with actions, and it was okay with her. Ed had been all about words and his fists. Daryl was loud and angry, but those were the only traits he shared with her dead husband. He was also caring and protective, able to comfort her in ways no one else had been able to since Sophia.

Suddenly needing to see him, she rolled toward him and rested her hand lightly on his side. Used to the contact, Daryl continued to sleep. When he was sleeping, the lines and stress in his face seemed to fade away, allowing her a small glimpse of the boy he had once been. The boy who, like her, had been hurt by those he had trusted to protect and keep him safe. His skin was a canvas of evidence of his father's rage as well as his brother's, and he had survived. She had scars, too, and sometimes he would run his fingers over them, never saying a word. He didn't need to. His touch said it all.

Her face relaxed into a soft smile as she snuggled into his chest and tucked her head under his chin. In his sleep, he wrapped a muscled arm around her and pulled her even tighter against his heart.

Maybe nothing ever lasted, but she would love and protect him until she drew her last breath, and maybe that was enough.

The End.


	20. My Girl

A short one for the Reckless universe. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Twenty: My Girl

"I guess you'd say what can make me feel this way? My girl. Talkin' 'bout my girl…"

Daryl's voice was soft as he paced around the perch with his girl in his arms. Cherokee Rose sighed and squirmed against, her blue eyes bright and wide awake. She was the quietest baby he had ever seen, and Carol said Sophia was the same way when she was born. Daryl had no idea what he had been like as a baby, mostly because the only surviving relative who might be able to tell him had burned out most of his memories with drug use.

Shifting Rosie up to his shoulder, he rested his head lightly against hers. She loved the feel of his stubble, like her mama did. He smirked and patted her back lightly as his eyes drifted to Carol's sleeping form. Rosie was just a month old, and Daryl was certain he had never loved another person as much as he loved her. He loved Judith and he loved Carol, but he had made Rosie. She carried his blood, his genes and his eyes. As much as it terrified him, he could see himself in her. He also saw Carol in Rosie as well. Rosie had Carol's nose and her beautiful smile, her little hands and her high cheekbones. She was a beautiful blend of both of them, but he hoped like hell she would have her mother's sweet temperament and not his bad temper. He could hope, anyway.

Rosie snuggled into his shoulder and yawned sweetly, her tiny fingers grasping at the material of his shirt. He kissed her soft forehead and sighed, content for the first time in far too long.

"Love you, my girl."

The End.


	21. Sniffles

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Twenty One: Sniffles

_Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart._

People got sick. It was just a fact of life.

Daryl had seen it all his life, well before the end of the world and the takeover by the walkers. People got sick, and sometimes people died. The only difference between then and now was they couldn't get access to medicines when someone did get sick. It didn't bother Daryl so much when one of the group got sick. All he cared about was that they stayed away from him while they were sick. And when he was sick, he would stay up in his perch, away from the rest of the group. Only Carol was brave enough to approach him when he was sick, and even then he would grumble and gripe until she left him alone.

Then Judith got sick for the first time, and all hell broke loose.

It wasn't anything serious, just a cough and slight fever. But she was six months old and practically inconsolable, as was Daryl. As soon as he found out she was sick, he had plucked her from Beth's arms and taken her up to his perch. He had never dealt with a sick baby, but he knew Judith and he knew how to take care of her when she was well, so by his logic he could take care of her when she was sick, too.

Judith fussed all night, despite Daryl's best efforts to soothe her. By the time the sun came up, Daryl was frustrated and worried.

Carol came up to his perch shortly after sunrise. "Hey…"

Daryl looked over at her, patting Judith's back absently. "What?"

"Thought you might want some help." She held her arms out and looked at him expectantly.

He shook his head, not ready to hand the baby over yet. "I got her. Gonna make a run later fer some medicine."

"She can't have any, Daryl."

"Why the hell not?" he snapped, his tension causing Judith to fuss even more.

"She's too young. If you found any medicine, it would say not intended for children under two."

"So she jus' has ta suffer?"

"It's a cold, Daryl." Carol approached them and rested her hand on his arm. "She'll be fine."

"How can ya be so sure?" His voice quavered slightly despite his attempt not to let it.

"Because I had a baby." Her voice was quiet and almost immediately he regretted his harsh words.

"Carol…"

She waved a hand dismissively. "It's okay." She slid her hands under the baby and lifted her from Daryl's embrace. Wrapping the blanket tighter around Judith, she held her tightly to her chest and began swinging back and forth, humming softly.

Daryl watched curiously as Carol's movements combined with her humming slowly settled Judith. Soon the baby was sound asleep in Carol's arms. "How'd ya do that?" he whispered once Judith was sleeping.

"When Sophia was a baby, she was colicky."

"Wha's that?"

"She cried a lot. Ed hated it."

Daryl felt anger well up in his chest at the mention of Carol's dead husband, but he tamped it down and studied Carol's face. Dark circles beneath her blue eyes were starkly prominent, and she seemed even thinner than normal. Before he could lose his nerve, he motioned to his makeshift bed.

Carol seemed to understand without a word, because she lied down with the baby and curled up in his blankets, settling Judith on her chest.

Satisfied they were both comfortable and safe, Daryl sat down beside them, his crossbow in his hands.

Everyone got sick. So why did this make him feel so terrible?

The End.


	22. Fallen

I knew not all of the stories could be happy. Major character deaths implied in this update. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Twenty Two: Fallen

Nothing good ever lasted in this world.

The whole group was still comfortable in the prison. Rick was slowly warming to Tyreese's group, but they were still kept at a distance. Daryl and Carol found themselves growing closer, and Judith was growing like a weed. Maggie and Glenn still went at it every chance they got. Beth was a little less introverted, and Hershel did his best to help in any way he could. They all did.

The sun was shining brightly outside, and for once, there were no walkers around the prison gate. It was very rare, but everyone was outside and actually enjoying themselves. Carol and Maggie were playing with the baby in the grass, and Daryl hovered nearby, keeping an eye on Carol and Judith. He was relaxed for the first time in far too long, and he should have known it wouldn't last.

It was Carl's scream that sent everyone scrambling. Daryl spun his head toward the direction of the sound, and his heart sank when he saw walkers pouring into the prison yard. Without hesitation, he broke into a dead run toward Carol and Judith. Gunshots rang in his ears, mixed with frantic screams, but he couldn't be distracted. Snatching Judith up in one arm, he used his free hand to grab Carol's arm and pull her with him. This time, there would be no saving the prison. At this rate, he was afraid no one else would be saved. All he could do was save Carol and Judith, the most vulnerable members of the group, and the ones he loved the most. His feet raced across the grass and his hand gripped Carol's arm as tightly as he dared. Judith must have been stunned by the movement, because she didn't make a sound as they ran.

They made it to the gate and Daryl let go of Carol long enough to rip the gate open. Then he grabbed her again and yanked her through the gate. The screams grew quieter and quieter with each step they put behind them. Daryl was grateful when they encountered no walkers as they made their escape.

Finally, when Daryl realized they had to stop, he turned to look at Carol. Her cheeks were flushed and her skin was damp with tears and sweat. On instinct, he wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her tightly against his chest, mindful of the baby between them.

Carol wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shoulder. Her slender frame trembled with each ragged breath she took.

On instinct, Daryl ran his hand over her, searching for any bite marks or scratches. "Ya bit?" he whispered against her short hair.

She shook her head.

"Scratched?"

"No…"

His shoulders sagged with relief. Judith hadn't been bitten, either. They were both safe. On another impulse, he kissed the side of her head.

"We have to go back," Carol said weakly, but they both knew the prison was a lost cause.

"Can't," he responded gently.

"But…someone could have made it."

He was aware of this, but he was also aware that Carol and Judith were now his responsibility, and keeping them alive was his sole concern. They were all he cared about, all he had ever cared about since the thing that used to be Sophia stumbled out of Hershel's barn. "We hafta keep goin', Carol." His arm tightened around her. "I hafta protect you an' Jude."

Finally she nodded.

Relieved, Daryl slowly pulled away from her. But he kept his free arm around her as they continued to move forward. "We'll go to the highway," he finally said after they had been walking for a while. "Back to the car where we left the note." If anyone survived the prison, they would head there.

Carol seemed satisfied, because she tucked herself into his side and moved with him.

Daryl was grateful she was no longer arguing, but he knew the dangers that lay ahead for the two of them. He had his crossbow on his back, a gun tucked into his pants, but unless Carol had a weapon, those two things were all the protection they had. They had nothing for Judith and no food for any of them. It was going to be hard, and there was no guarantee they wouldn't die on the way back to the highway. But he smiled in spite of all of those things, because he had Judith and Carol. He would keep them safe.

They were his family.

The End.

A/N: I'm contemplating writing a second half to this one, to show who made it to the highway. What do you guys think? Thanks for reading, and please review!


	23. Risen

Yeah...this came out much fluffier than I planned. Hope ya'll can forgive me. Enjoy the second half of Fallen.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Twenty Three: Risen

The trek back to the highway after the attack on the prison was a long one. Carol had offered to take Judith, but Daryl was reluctant to let the little girl go, and Carol understood. Once they finally reached the highway and the car where they had left the note for Sophia over a year ago, they were finally able to stop. Daryl finally relinquished Judith to Carol and lifted his crossbow from his back. There were no walkers to be seen, thankfully. But there were also no signs of the living.

They waited for a couple of hours, until Judith began fussing. Daryl was relieved and grateful as Carol produced a bottle from her pocket and easily got Judith to latch onto it. They would have to find another store or nursery in hopes it would hold more formula and warm clothes for Judith. His sharp eyes scanned the highway. They would need another mode of transportation, since he hadn't thought to go for his bike while he was fighting to get Judith and Carol to safety. He cursed himself for not having more foresight. In his mind, he had mapped out all sorts of escape routes for just this very day. He had made contingency plans for every instance, and in every imagined escape, he had not once forgotten his bike. Now, not only had he forgotten his bike, but he had not thought to grab more weapons, food, or even diapers for Judith. They had her blanket and the diaper she was wearing, as well as the bottle Carol was currently feeding her. But that was it.

"Daryl!"

Daryl and Carol spun around to see Maggie and Glenn approaching them, with Carl following close behind. Carol cried out in relief and embraced Maggie, while Carl checked on his baby sister. Glenn and Daryl exchanged nods of acknowledgement.

"S'there anyone else?" Daryl questioned.

Glenn shook his head as tears welled up in Maggie's eyes. "Beth and Hershel didn't make it. We didn't see Rick or Tyreese's group." He wrapped an arm firmly around Maggie and drew her into his side.

Daryl nodded. "We'll stay for another hour, then we hafta move." He didn't want to take the chance of a herd passing through.

Carl looked dejected, but he didn't protest. Daryl couldn't help sympathizing with the boy. He had seen far too much in his young life. It wasn't fair, but nothing about their new world was fair.

While they waited, Glenn and Daryl began searching cars for one that might start. They were extremely lucky when they found a mini-van and it started without any problems. There were no bodies inside to clear out, and there were even a few blankets and a small box of supplies in the backseat that hadn't been ransacked. Daryl ushered Carol and the baby into the passenger's seat while Maggie, Glenn and Carl piled into the backseat. He could read the boy's face like a book, but they didn't have a choice. Staying in one place meant certain death, and he couldn't let it happen. He couldn't lose Carol or the baby.

Once they were moving, Daryl was careful as he drove on the shoulder of the highway to avoid the worst of the wreckage. He could hear Maggie sobbing in the backseat and Glenn comforting her. Looking to Carol, he offered her a weak smile. He had no idea where they were going or what they were going to do, but they were alive. In Rick's sudden absence, it seemed he had assumed the role of leader to what remained of the group. He wouldn't let them down.

He couldn't let them down.

* * *

"Daryl!"

Daryl looked up from the small pond he was soaking his feet in. Two years had gone by since the walkers descended on the prison and claimed half of their group. It had taken them six months to find a suitable new place. The farm was large and roomy, and a few cows and sheep had even managed to survive the walker outbreak. Daryl wasn't sure how the hell it had happened, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He just took it and said a silent thanks to whatever force had been watching out for them.

On the farm, they had thrived. Judith was almost three now and quite a handful, but Daryl loved her more than he had ever thought he was capable of loving someone else. The four adults raised her together, but she called him Daddy and Carol Mama.

Carl was growing, too. He was sixteen now and looked more like his father every day. Daryl took him hunting around the boy's fifteenth birthday as a present, and Carl had never looked so excited. But his eyes were still haunted, and Daryl didn't think it would ever go away.

Getting to his feet, Daryl crossed the grass and headed in the direction of Carol's voice. "Whaddya want, woman?" he called out affectionately. It had taken a long time for him to let his guard down with her, but he was glad he had. She loved him like no one had ever loved him, and even if they never had a child together, he was happy. He had her and Judith.

She came flying over the grass, and he let out a surprised oof as she flung herself into his arms. For a wild moment, he had been afraid something terrible had happened. They hadn't seen a walker in a year, but there was always the chance… "Wha's wrong?" he whispered into her ear.

She buried her face in his neck and grabbed the back of his shirt in her hands. "Daryl, I…"

"Spit it out."

Floored was the wrong word to describe how he felt when she spoke the next two words.

"I'm pregnant."

The End.


	24. Kryptonite

Dare I hope for 200 reviews? I guess I should just hope to not be burned alive after this one...

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Twenty Four: Kryptonite

He should have known Judith learning to walk would be nothing but trouble.

Before she could walk, Daryl carried her almost everywhere. She was with him or Carol more than she was with Rick, a fact everyone was perfectly happy not to talk about. Rick had his hands full with Carl and the loss of his wife, as well as being a leader to the group. He loved his daughter and spent time with her, but his other duties took precedent over the task of looking after her. Carol and Daryl didn't mind. They still hadn't acknowledged the thing between them, but they were content keeping up with Judith together.

Once Judith started walking, she was into everything. It used to be that Daryl could set her down in the grass while he shot at walkers through the fence, but not anymore. Now anytime he set her down, she would get to her feet and toddle off, sometimes while he wasn't looking. This almost always caused Daryl to have a heart attack. He loved Judith more than anything, but now that she was walking, he felt like he had aged at least twenty years.

The worst incident came on a warm spring day. The winter had been harsh, but the walkers had seemingly died out, because not a single one had been seen. The group was finally beginning to breathe easier, and the prison was becoming more of a home to them.

Daryl was cleaning his crossbow and priding himself on a job well done. He had caught enough squirrels and rabbits to feed everyone for a couple of days. Judith was toddling around the grass, squealing happily to herself as she chased after a butterfly. Carol was somewhere close by. He could hear her talking to Maggie about something. They both giggled, and he scoffed. Women.

Everything seemed almost…peaceful. Then all hell broke loose.

Judith screamed, a sound that chilled Daryl to the bone. He shoved an arrow into his bow and broke into a run, but Carol was faster. She cleared the distance to the fence in seconds, and time seemed to slow to a crawl as Daryl numbly realized what had happened.

There was a single walker at the fence. Somehow it had survived the winter while the others hadn't. It was once a woman judging by the tattered remains of a dress, and its skin sloughed off its bones, leaving pearly white exposed. It was hunched over and reaching through the fence, and its bony fingers clutched Judith's tiny arm. Daryl couldn't move fast enough, and he was terrified he was seeing the end of little Judith.

Carol reached the fence just as the walker prepared to sink its rotting teeth into Judith's tender little arm, and without hesitating, she shoved her left arm between the walker's gaping mouth and Judith's flesh.

Daryl saw the thing's grotesque teeth sink into Carol's arm, and a primal scream tore loose from his throat as Carol cried out. Finally he was close enough, and he took aim, letting a single arrow rip through the air and find its target in the walker's head. The walker fell back, but not without taking a chunk of Carol's flesh with it. Swearing viciously, Daryl spun around and knelt beside Carol, who had fallen to the grass and looked to be in shock. Her arm was still curled protectively around Judith. The little girl was sobbing, but otherwise unharmed. The infection was spreading rapidly, and Daryl only had seconds to make a decision. Reaching down to his side, he grasped his knife and pulled it from its sheath. Then he roughly grabbed her bitten arm, silently apologizing as he shoved the knife into her flesh. She screamed as he felt the blade pierce muscle and bone, but he couldn't stop.

Maggie and Glenn appeared and Glenn grabbed Judith, passing her to Rick when he finally made it to the fence. Daryl couldn't concern himself with them. His attention was focused on the task at hand. If he moved quickly enough, he could save her. She would lose her arm below her elbow, but she would_ live_. He wouldn't lose her, not if he could prevent it.

Her blood spread over his hands, curling his stomach and sending bile to the back of his throat, but he kept working even after Carol passed out from the shock. Finally the infected limb was severed, and Daryl was silently thankful when Maggie handed him gauze and clean towels. He had no kind of medical background, but he knew how the group had saved Hershel after Rick had been forced to remove the old man's leg. His hands trembled as he wiped away as much blood as he could and wrapped clean gauze around the stump that had been Carol's arm just a few moments before.

The rest of the group had slowly assembled around the two, the redneck and the childless mother. There was support, but there was also fear and concern over Carol's condition. With Hershel, saving him was vital to the survival group. But Carol…

Wiping his hands on a towel, Daryl did his best to calm himself. But he found himself irrationally angry at little Judith. She was just a baby, of course, but if he lost Carol because Judith had wandered away… He slid his hands under Carol and easily picked her up, settling her against his broad chest. He was reminded of another time when he had held her so close after nearly losing her, and he almost came unglued. He forced himself to hold it together, though, if for nothing else but her. She was going to be fine.

Maggie and Glenn walked on either side of him. "I can help, Daryl," the younger man offered, holding his hands out.

Daryl glared at him. "Fuck off, short round. No one's gonna touch her but me."

Glenn's hands dropped back to his sides.

Daryl didn't apologize. He just kept moving, holding Carol tighter and tighter with every step he took. She drew uneven breaths as he jostled her, and he found himself muttering softly into her ear as he carried her into the prison. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Hershel and Beth, but he ignored them. He carried Carol up to his perch and, with as much tenderness as he could muster, he laid her on his makeshift bed and covered her with his poncho.

Hershel came up to the perch a few moments later, his face taut with worry. "How's she?"

"Dunno." Daryl rubbed the back of his neck and swallowed hard as Hershel slowly lowered himself down beside Carol and began checking her over.

It took Hershel a few minutes to examine her, and every passing second made the knot in Daryl's gut tighten. Finally he spoke. "She's lost a lot of blood, and she's in shock."

"What can I do ta help?" Daryl demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Not much we can do for the shock, other than keep her warm and hydrated."

Daryl understood what the old man wasn't saying. There was still a chance she could turn. Fear squeezed his heart at the thought. "She's gonna be okay," he muttered as Hershel stood up.

The older man squeezed his shoulder, but Daryl shrugged off his hand and dropped to a knee beside Carol. She shivered beneath his poncho, and he pulled it tighter around her as Hershel slowly climbed down from the perch, allowing Daryl some sense of privacy with Carol. His sharply-honed senses told him no one was watching, so he felt free to lay his hand gently against her forehead. Her skin was clammy and moist.

"Ya can't go anywhere, Carol. Ya hear me?" he murmured, his eyes stinging slightly.

After a while, her shivering eased, much to Daryl's relief. But he didn't loosen his hold on her. If things had gone just a little differently earlier, he could have lost her before he even reached the gate. He could have lost Judith, too. He could have lost both of them. But thanks to Carol's self-sacrificing nature, Judith was unharmed and Daryl was hoping Carol would somehow be okay. His hand moved up and slowly stroked her shaggy hair.

"I can't lose ya…"

There was no response, and in that moment, he would have given his last breath to hear her say his name just one more time.

To Be Continued...?


	25. Through the Fire

Thank you guys for the wonderful reviews! :D Here is the second half of Kryptonite. I contemplated uploading another story first, but then I thought you guys really might set me on fire. LMAO. So I present Through the Fire. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Twenty Five: Through the Fire

Fire.

The flames were everywhere, licking at her skin and searing her bones as she opened her mouth in a silent scream of agony. She couldn't breathe for the thick smoke, and she was slowly suffocating in her own skin.

Just as the fire consumed her entirely, a soft voice reached out to her, whispering a single word.

"Carol."

The flames still ripped at her flesh, but then there was a gentle touch, calling her back from the agony. The touch was soothing and almost familiar, and just like that, the flames were gone.

Then there was nothing but darkness.

* * *

When she opened her eyes again, there was no more fire, no more heat. She was slightly chilled, sticky and damp from sweat, and she felt a heavy pressure on her chest accompanied by a dull ache in her arm. Her first thought was that she was having a heart attack, but then the pressure moved slightly.

Her eyelids felt like they were fused together with crazy glue, and it took several attempts to force them open. Once they were finally opened, she was greeted by darkness. Memories slowly began creeping into her brain. Memories of running to the fence, of seeing a walker grabbing baby Judith and attempting to bite her… Her chest began to heave as the memories came faster and faster.

"Carol?"

Rick's voice came through the fog, slowly drawing her attention to him. He was crouched down beside her, his face drawn with worry. Once he saw that he had her attention, he moved closer to her.

"Carol, can you hear me?"

She managed a small nod. Her eyes drifted down to the source of the pressure on her chest. Daryl was draped across her, breathing deeply as he slept. His fingers were tangled in the fingers of her right hand.

Rick smiled guardedly. "He hasn't left your side."

Her mouth was dry and uncomfortable, but she managed to find her voice. "How long…?"

"Two days. Do you remember what happened?"

Her eyes shifted to Daryl once more. "Walker at the fence…Judith…"

"Yeah. You saved my girl's life. Thank you."

Relief coursed through her. Judith was alive.

"But you were bit in the process."

Bit… She vaguely remembered Daryl screaming her name as the walker tore her flesh, but her memories were a blur beyond that point.

"Daryl, he… He saved your life. He had to amputate your arm below the elbow. We thought you were going to die from shock or the fever."

"Fever…?" she repeated dazedly.

He nodded. "You were unconscious for the first day, but you developed a fever yesterday. It got so bad, you had a seizure. Daryl almost went out of his mind."

Daryl… Without thinking, she gently squeezed his hand. He wasn't a light sleeper, she knew for a fact. But he burrowed closer to her and settled back into sleep.

"I checked on the two of you around midnight, and your fever had broken. Hershel thinks you're out of the woods now." He produced a bottle of water and unscrewed the cap before lowering it to Carol's lips.

She raised her head and took a few sips before he took the bottle away again. She relished the water, and her throat felt immensely better. "Thanks," she rasped.

"You're welcome." He placed his hand gently against her forehead, but they were both startled when a low growl was heard from Daryl.

"Get the hell off her, Rick." The roughneck raised his head and glared dangerously at the deputy, who slowly withdrew his hand from Carol's head.

Carol watched Daryl, bemused. Daryl looked exhausted, but the relief at seeing her awake was clear in his eyes. Had she really been so close to death?

Obviously uncomfortable, Rick cleared his throat. "I'm glad to see you're awake, Carol. I should head down to start breakfast."

"Thanks, Rick." Carol watched as Rick headed down the stairs and disappeared from her sight.

Once he was gone, Daryl shifted onto his side, but he kept his hand on Carol's abdomen. She enjoyed the touch and closed her eyes with a tired yawn.

"Ya okay?"

Daryl's voice was soft, almost hesitant. Like a child in desperate need of comfort, he was reaching out to her, something he rarely ever did. It occurred to her that, despite saving her life, he might have felt guilty for taking her arm.

Moving carefully, Carol rolled onto her side until she was face to face with the man who had saved her life. Her bandaged limb lay between them. "Daryl, I'm alive, thanks to you," she whispered, her eyes burning with unshed tears.

"But…"

"No buts." She placed her good hand gently on his side. "You saved me."

His eyes watered, and Carol let out a surprised sound when he scooted closer and pulled her firmly against his chest. Her body tensed, then relaxed and settled against his.

"I ain't lettin' ya go," he whispered, his lips feather-light against her forehead. "Ya understand? I… I need ya too much."

It occurred to her how much bravery it took for him to say those words, and her reaction to them could potentially heal a lifetime of pain, or slam him into destruction at a hundred miles an hour. It was all on her. "Daryl…" She moved her hand to his cheek and allowed her fingertips to slowly run over his skin. "You're not going to lose me."

"I almost did." His voice was soft and broken.

"But you saved me," she gently reminded him. Her thumb wiped away a single tear from his cheek. "I'm here now because of you."

He seemed unconvinced, and the next move she made would forever be imprinted in both of their minds. She closed the distance between them and pressed her lips softly but sweetly against his. The first kiss was tentative, almost fearful, and when she pulled away she was afraid he would be angry. But she couldn't have been more wrong. He followed her and captured her lips in a bruising, possessive kiss that left her gasping for air when it ended.

She was still so exhausted even after the kiss, and Daryl seemed to sense her weariness. He held her closer and rested his head against hers.

"Sleep," he ordered gruffly. "Ya need ta rest."

As if in agreement, she yawned deeply and snuggled into his chest. Despite his gruff, filthy and angry exterior, Daryl was quite warm and comfortable to press up against. Drowsiness took over as Daryl slowly ran his rough hand up and down her back. He didn't realize it, but she had never felt safer than she did in that very moment, laying there with him on his perch.

"I'm really glad you're okay."

She realized he must have thought she was sleeping, and she continued to listen as he spoke quietly.

"Don't ever scare me like that again, woman, or I swear to God, I'll follow ya and kick yer ass all over eternity."

She smiled into his chest. Maybe she had lost her arm, but she had her life and she had Daryl.

As far as she was concerned, it was a fair trade.

The End.


	26. Wild

First of all, I'd like to say a huge thank you to libfulknot, whose review for Through the Fire completely inspired this chapter. Thank you, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Twenty Six: Wild

Two days. That's how long it took Carol to venture down from the perch after her brush with death.

For two days after she first regained consciousness, Daryl hovered incessantly. Hershel had deemed her now out of the woods and on the mend, and Daryl insisted on taking care of her by himself. He changed the dressing on her arm and snarled at anyone who dared to approach the perch. At night, he would join her on his bed and curl his body around hers before pulling the blanket over them and tucking his arm firmly over her waist. Then he would rest his head in the crook of her neck and softly whisper good night. They never went beyond kissing; she was certain he was afraid of hurting her, even though she knew he wasn't capable of it.

But she was beginning to think he might be capable of hurting others who came around her. Much like a wild animal guarding its wounded mate, he growled and snapped at anyone brave enough to even breathe in their direction. After a while, the rest of the group simply avoided the perch. It wasn't worth risking Daryl's wrath.

During those two days, Daryl didn't go more than a few feet from her side. He even went as far as carrying her to the bathroom when she needed it, then he carried her back to the perch and promptly placed her back on the bed.

By the second day, Carol had had enough. She waited until he had slipped off to do something, then she made her move. Her legs were shaky as she stood upright for the first time in four days, but she smiled. Moving slowly, she headed down the steps and outside, where the sun shined brightly and warmed her skin. She smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying the sun's rays.

It was good to be alive.

* * *

Daryl finished up quickly in the bathroom and walked out, stopping briefly at Carol's cell to grab a few things before he headed up to their perch. He paused at his own use of the word 'their'. Since when had his area become _theirs_?

Shaking his head, he quickly ascended the steps, calling out to her. "Carol, I got…" His words died on his lips when he realized their bed was empty. His heart started to race. Where the hell was she?

Dropping the items he held, he quickly ran back down the steps, bellowing, "Carol!"

Everyone within earshot came to him. Rick reached the roughneck first. "What's wrong, Daryl?"

"I can't find Carol," Daryl snapped, shoving Rick away when he reached out. "Where the hell'd she go?"

"I don't know-"

Daryl snarled impatiently and retrieved his knife from its sheathe. Then he headed outside, hell-bent on finding her. "Carol!"

This woman was going to be the death of him.

* * *

Carol had just sat down in the grass when she heard her name being called. For a wild moment, she entertained the thought of ignoring him and making him find her, just as he had done to her so many times. But it was only a thought, one she didn't act on. "Daryl?"

He came barreling across the grass, and the sight of her sitting seemed to send him into a panic. "Wha's wrong?" he demanded, grabbing her uninjured arm roughly. "Ya okay?"

"Of course I'm okay-"

"Then why the hell are ya sitting here by yourself?" He knelt down beside her and brought his face within inches of hers. "Why'd ya leave the perch at all? Ya can't jus' wander off, not while-"

"Daryl, I'm fine." She reached out and brushed her knuckles over his cheek. "I just needed to get out of there for a while."

He was quiet as he absorbed her words. "Fine," he finally conceded. He sat down beside her in the grass, leaving very little space between their bodies. "But I'm stayin' here with ya."

"Daryl…"

"I'm stayin' or I'll carry ya back inside," he growled.

Heaving a sigh, Carol fell silent as they sat in the grass. She cared about Daryl more than anyone in the group, except for little Judith. Knowing Daryl, he was probably a little mad at the girl, even though Carol had made the choice to put her arm between Judith and the walker's gnashing teeth. She didn't regret the decision, either. Judith was alive, and so was she.

"Carol?"

She turned her head toward Daryl. "Hmm?"

He reached out and laid his hand against the small of her back. "I…"

A delighted squeal interrupted whatever he was going to say, and Carol watched as Judith toddled across the grass, her arms stretched out and reaching toward them. Her little face was beaming and she babbled exuberantly. Ignoring the strange look on Daryl's face, Carol held her good arm out and waited for the little girl to fling herself into her arms. Judith finally reached them, but instead of jumping into Carol's embrace, both were startled when Daryl shot an arm out and caught her.

Judith frowned and chattered at him in protest, then reached out for Carol again.

Daryl shook his head. "No."

"Daryl!" Carol frowned and brushed his hand away, then pulled Judith against her chest with one arm. "What's gotten into you? She's a baby!"

Thrilled, Judith snuggled into Carol's chest.

The look on his face said it all. He blamed her for Carol losing her arm, and it wasn't fair. "Daryl, it wasn't her fault."

"She ran to the fence."

"So? She's a baby," Carol repeated fiercely. "She doesn't know any better."

"And she almost got ya killed!"

The self-recrimination in his voice startled her, and she finally understood. "Daryl…" Scooting over closer, she started to touch him with her left hand. Then she remembered it no longer existed. With a sigh, she settled for resting her forehead against his neck. He stiffened at the contact, but eventually relaxed and slid his arm around her. "Daryl, I don't blame either of you."

"How couldn't ya?" he whispered.

"I just don't. You saved me." Her lips softly grazed his neck. "This world is dangerous, and I could have died, but I didn't because of you. Your quick thinking and action kept me from becoming one of them."

"I never woulda let ya become one of them."

"I know."

He sighed and closed his eyes.

Judith chose that moment to climb from Carol's lap to his. "Dar?" she chirped softly.

Carol watched as Daryl's handsome face settled into a cockeyed smile. "Guess I can' stay mad at ya," he admitted begrudgingly to the baby.

She grinned up at him, showing off two tiny baby teeth. "Dar!"

"Yeah, yeah…" He wrapped her up in his free arm and brought her against his chest.

Carol continued to smile at the two of them. They weren't blood, but the three of them and their edges came together somehow to form a family.

The End.


	27. To Stir Up Trouble

For Wemmaby, cause she sent in the 200th review. At this rate, this story just might be my best reviewed story! :D Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Twenty Seven: To Stir Up Trouble

It was a miracle.

Carol gawked as she held her prize in her hands. Since settling into the prison, they had really made it a home. Daryl, Rick and Axel had worked day and night to get the generators up and operating, and though the group used them sparingly, it was nice to finally have access to a functioning kitchen and hot water for showers. Besides working stoves and ovens, they also had a freezer where they could store the animals Daryl caught, killed and cleaned. They were finally making the prison their home.

Grinning, Carol tucked the box into her bag. She had gone out with Glenn on a scouting trip under the pretense of finding any supplies they could store and later use. The group was larger, having taken in Tyreese and his people. And with the way Glenn and Maggie were always going, Carol would not be shocked to hear a pregnancy announcement from them.

"Carol, you ready to go?" Glenn called out quietly.

Grabbing a couple of other items and shoving them into her bag, Carol jogged over to Glenn and followed him outside, into the bright sunlight. She smiled. It had been a good run, and today was a special day to her. It was Daryl's birthday, as close as she could guess. He had let it slip a year ago after a few too many drinks, and she had tucked away the tidbit of information to use later.

"Ready." She gave Glenn a quick grin before climbing into the car to wait for him.

* * *

Back at the prison, she noticed Daryl standing at the fence, his crossbow in his hands. They drove up to the gates as Axel and Rick pulled the gates open, allowing the car inside. Glenn parked the car and killed the engine as Carol opened her door and climbed out. The look of relieve on Daryl's grimy face didn't escape her notice. More and more lately, it seemed, Daryl was somewhere close to her. Sometimes he would be yards away, but his piercing eyes would be on her, and sometimes he would be inches away and hovering. Without ever saying a word, he made it clear he was content to be close to her, something she was quickly learning to enjoy.

She flashed him a reassuring grin and motioned for him to follow her, which he did without hesitation.

"Ya okay?" he asked once they were away from the rest of the group and well out of earshot.

"I'm fine." On an impulse, she reached out and brushed her fingertips against his arm. "Happy birthday, Daryl."

He grunted quietly. "How'd ya know?"

"I got you drunk and took advantage of you."

Suddenly he wasn't walking alongside her anymore, and she laughed as she backtracked and grasped his arm gently. "You told me last year," she explained, and he seemed relieved as they resumed walking. "I found a nice present for you while Glenn and I were gone."

His interest seemed to be piqued. "Wha's that?"

"Come with me and you'll find out."

"Woman, I'm already comin' with ya," he grumbled as they headed in the direction of the prison's kitchen.

"Not yet," she teased, and she laughed when his face flushed a deep scarlet.

Finally they were in the kitchen, and she reached into her bag, digging around for Daryl's surprise. "You found a few eggs yesterday, and I think I can use them for this." Finally she held up the brownie mix, and Daryl's eyes lit up.

"Brownies? How the hell did ya find 'em?" he demanded gleefully, reaching out to snatch the box from Carol's hands.

Carol ducked his greedy hands and smirked. "I have my ways. You're going to help me."

His hands dropped to his sides. "Help you _what_?"

"Make them."

His eyebrows nearly reached his hairline, making Carol laugh.

Oh, yes, this was going to be fun.

* * *

After preheating the oven and scrounging up what she needed to add to the mix, Carol dumped everything into a large bowl, once again thanking God that the prison had remained largely untouched by looters. She began stirring the mixture with a large wooden spoon while Daryl leaned back against the table and watched her curiously.

"What?"

He cocked his head to the side. "Huh?"

"I can see the gears moving in your head. What are you thinking about?"

Moving fast, Daryl stuck a finger into the batter and brought it up to his lips. "This." He licked the chocolate off his finger and a purring sound rumbled through his chest.

Carol looked at him with a mixture of annoyance and attraction. "Hey!"

"Hey, nothin'," he shot back. "'S my birthday."

He looked so… A deep longing stirred inside of her, and before she could lose her nerve, she reached up and wiped her thumb across the corner of his mouth.

He froze. "What…"

"You had some chocolate there…" she murmured.

"Yeah?" He focused that predator gaze on her, and her heart skipped a beat.

"Mm hmm." Her other hand came up and touched the opposite side of his mouth. "There too…"

He leaned into her hand hesitantly. "Didya get it?"

"Still some there…" Leaning up on her toes, Carol brushed her lips softly, tentatively, against his. He parted his lips and she eagerly deepened the kiss as she pressed herself between his legs. He tasted of chocolate and was quick to take control of the kiss. His hands came up and rested against the small of her back, pulling her possessively against him as they both fought for control of the kiss.

"Hey, Carol, I was- Whoa!"

Carol groaned and reluctantly ended the kiss at the sound of Glenn's voice. The boy had the absolute worst timing… Disentangling herself from Daryl's arms, she glared at Glenn. "What?"

She must have sounded menacing, because Glenn held up his hands and slowly backed out of the kitchen. "I'll come back later."

"Or not at all!" Daryl called after Glenn's retreating form.

They were alone again, and Carol grabbed the bowl and dumped its contents into a long pan. "The only thing I couldn't find was nonstick spray, so they'll probably stick to the pan," she explained to Daryl as she stuck the pan into the oven and closed the door.

His hands came to rest on her waist as she took a step back from the oven. "Hmm. Messy's good," he murmured as he drew her in for another kiss.

Later on, no one said a word about the brownies being slightly burnt or the chocolate stains on both Carol and Daryl.

Glenn couldn't look either of them in the eye for a full three days afterward.

The End!


	28. Dreamscape

Another Daryl nightmare sequence! Lots of hurt/comfort. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter 28: Dreamscape

"Carol!"

The voice startled Carol out of a restless sleep. While she was grateful for the semi-comfortable beds and relative safety of the prison walls, she was beginning to understand why Daryl had laid claim to the perch the first day they arrived at the prison. The cells were small and claustrophobic, something she was struggling with.

She sat up in the bunk and rubbed at her sleep-bleary eyes. It was still dark, so who was calling her, and why?

Then the voice came again, and like a fire had been lit under her, she raced out of the cell and up the steps leading to Daryl's perch. "Daryl?"

He was tangled up in his blanket and jerking in his sleep as though he was looking for someone. His lips moved furiously, and his brow was knitted in frustration. "Carol…"

Stunned and fascinated, Carol couldn't help kneeling beside him. He was calling out for her in his sleep, possibly looking for her in some dream. "Daryl, I'm here," she murmured, not wanting him to wake up the rest of the group. "It's okay. Shh…"

He thrashed on his makeshift bed, his fingers curling into fists. "No, stop! Get offa her!"

"Daryl, wake up," she pleaded. She shifted onto the bed so their hips touched.

Becoming even more agitated, he gasped and cussed, his voice rising in volume.

Finally Carol did the best thing she knew to do. She straddled his hips and pinned him in place with her own body. Then she rested her hands on his shoulders, gently squeezing as she called out to him.

His eyes flew open at the sudden weight of her on him, and for a moment, he looked startled. "Carol?"

She nodded.

Without warning, he sat upright and wrapped his arms tightly around her. Then he buried his face in her chest, clinging to her with all the desperation of a wounded man.

She was momentarily taken aback by the sudden display of affection, but the surprise only lasted as long as it took her to get her arms around him. Then she was clinging to him just as tightly, just as desperately. Her fingers came up and threaded through his messy hair, reassuring them both.

After a while, Daryl finally relaxed, and Carol fully expected him to push her away and cast her back to her cell. But he didn't. Instead, he turned onto his side and stretched out again, pulling her along with him. Once again, she was stunned. He was being so open, so affectionate and unafraid. This wasn't like him at all, but she wasn't arguing with it. Instead, she took full advantage and snuggled into his chest. Her ear came to rest directly over his heart. The beat was a little fast, but it was soothing all the same. He was alive, and he was with her. She couldn't ask for anything more, not in this world.

Daryl rested his large hand on her hip and pulled her flush against his own body. Then he sighed and settled down.

Neither of them said a word, and Carol remained wide awake as Daryl's breathing evened out and he slipped back into sleep. But his grip remained firm on her hip. His need to be close to her was endearing. In their new world, comfort and familiarity were hard to come by. They had to take what they needed where they could get it.

Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. In the morning, he would probably pull away from her and mutter something about her being in his personal space. She would probably apologize and they would go about their morning routine with as little discomfort as possible.

But it was still dark, she was still in his arms, and tomorrow was still a long way off.

The End.


	29. Kill Shot

All I'll say about this chapter is if I get twenty reviews, I'll continue it. :) Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Twenty Nine: Kill Shot

Aim to kill.

When Daryl took her out hunting for the first time, it was a lesson for both of them. She had never really handled anything bigger than a butter knife before the world went to hell, and she had to learn fast. She became adept with a gun and his hunting knife, and his favorite phrase seemed to be aim to kill. It made sense, once she started thinking about it. With limited medical care, they couldn't afford any mishaps with bullets or blades.

So when Axel 'accidently' shot Daryl, Carol didn't hesitate to grab her gun.

It all started out in the prison yard. Rick was on guard, Maggie and Glenn had disappeared again, Carl was helping Hershel, and Carol was entertaining baby Judith in the grass. Since the incidents of Woodbury, Rick had reluctantly allowed Axel to join their group, but the man was already making the group regret the decision. He wasn't cruel or violent, but he was stupid, which was even worse on some levels. He forgot to lock the gate, he had accidents which required the use of what precious little medical supplies they had, supplies they couldn't afford to spare. He also made an instant enemy of Daryl when he made the mistake of hitting on Carol in front of the roughneck. Carol and Rick had to pry Daryl off of Axel and Axel was covered in bruises for a week after.

Carol sighed and ran her thumb over the gun resting in the holster on her hip. Daryl had made the holster for her a few weeks ago. It was a sweet and endearing gesture, one she truly cherished. They didn't get many things like these nowadays.

Daryl was a few yards away, working near Axel. Daryl made no attempts to hide his disdain for the convict, and Carol couldn't fault him for it. The ex-convict was a serious accident waiting to happen.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, a single gunshot was fired. The sound immediately sent Carol's heart into overdrive. Her eyes instinctively sought out Daryl and…

"Daryl!"

Pulling her gun from her holster, Carol ran to the spot where Daryl had collapsed. Axel was babbling and waving a gun as he whimpered over and over, "It was an accident! It was an accident!"

She dropped to her knees beside Daryl and instinctively ran her hands over his body, checking for wounds. There was a large gash on the side of his head, much like when they were on the Greene farm and Andrea had mistaken him for a walker before shooting him. Swearing, Carol pressed her palm against his ripped flesh and shouted for Rick. Her free hand came up, aiming her gun ruthlessly at Axel.

_Shoot to kill._

Rage blurred her consciousness, coursing through her veins. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think about anything else but the man lying beneath her hand. He was breathing steadily, but Axel had _shot _him. Growling, she aimed the gun at Axel's head, her finger tightening on the trigger.

"Carol, don't!"

Rick's voice pierced the red haze of rage. She tried to ignore him. Just a little more pressure on the trigger and this would all be over. No one would miss him anyway.

Large hands gently closed around hers, slowly prying the gun away. "It's okay," Rick soothed as he holstered her gun.

"It's not okay!" Carol snarled, now weaponless and still filled with rage. "Did you see what he did to Daryl?"

"I see what he did, and we'll punish him. But…"

Carol stopped listening to him and instead refocused her attention on Daryl. He was stirring and reaching up toward his head. Carol gently caught his hand with her free hand and whispered to him. Her right hand remained firmly staunched against his bleeding head. His eyes finally opened and squinted up at her.

"What…?"

Relief washed over her and she shook her head. "Stay still, Daryl." A pool of red was growing beneath his head, and she frowned. Her stomach twisted when she realized his head had hit a large rock hidden by the grass.

Groaning, Daryl forced himself into a sitting position. Carol's hands shot out and steadied him. "Take it easy," she murmured. Something in his eyes made her nervous.

He narrowed his eyes at her, tilting his head slightly. "Who are you?" His voice, rough and scratchy, was filled with confusion.

Carol's eyes widened, and before Rick could stop her, she grabbed Daryl's gun. Then she pointed it at Axel and pulled the trigger.

Shoot to kill.

The End.


	30. Miracle

This has become my second most reviewed story, and I am so happy! Thanks, everyone!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Thirty: Miracle

Of all the things he guessed he could have found in this world, this was not one of them.

Daryl moved quietly through the foliage, his crossbow ready to fire and his entire body tense. He had a million things on his mind, but his priority was finding a nice deer to take back to the prison. Carol hadn't been looking right lately, and his gut instinct said she wasn't eating nearly enough. No one in their group was, but she was giving what little she had to Carl and Beth. He scolded her every time she did, but the second he turned his back, he knew she would go right back to it.

So when he heard the cry, he almost dropped his crossbow.

"What the hell…?"

* * *

The sun was sinking beyond the horizon when Daryl finally returned to the prison. Carol let out a relieved breath when he appeared from the trees. She could see a good amount of squirrels hanging from his line, but what piqued her curiosity was the way he held his right arm to himself. Had he been hurt? Bitten? Her stomach sank at the thought. She didn't have time to linger, though. She rushed to the gate and opened it without hesitation. Daryl stepped into the prison yard, his expression unreadable.

"Are you okay?" was the first thing that came out of Carol's mouth as her eyes drifted to his right arm. Then she noticed movement, and she blinked.

"Daryl…"

"Jus' come with me," he ordered gruffly.

Unable to do anything but nod and move, she followed him into the prison and up to his perch. Everyone else must have been eating, because no one came forward to greet them. Daryl seemed relieved as they climbed up to his perch and he set his crossbow down. His right arm remained tight against his chest.

Finally Carol found her voice again. "Where did you-"

"Out in the forest."

Moving cautiously, Carol gently moved his arm to reveal a tiny red face. The baby couldn't have been more than a few days old and was completely naked save for the poncho Daryl had wrapped it in.

"It's a girl," Daryl said gruffly.

"She looks healthy." Carol touched the baby's cheek, and the baby turned her head toward the touch, mouth open and searching. "She's hungry."

"I'll get her some formula." He started toward the steps, but something held him back. "Carol…"

"I'll get it. You stay here with her. I'll find Hershel, too." She had no idea how the rest of the group would react to this new development, but she saw the steely resolve in Daryl's azure eyes. He wasn't going to give the baby up, and she couldn't blame him. "Daryl, was there anyone…?"

He shook his head vehemently. "Nah. No one. She was all by herself."

The thought stunned Carol. The baby must have been abandoned in the forest just a little while before Daryl found her, or walkers would have gotten to her. "Okay. Stay here." On an impulse, she squeezed his elbow before she headed down the steps. This baby would be another mouth to feed, another potential threat to the group, but at the same time, she was some kind of miracle. Something had kept her safe long enough for Daryl to find her, and being the man he was, Daryl didn't leave her to die in the forest as many others might have. He had brought her with him, into the safety and shelter of their newfound home.

She found the rest of the group eating dinner, and she steeled her back as all eyes fell to her.

"Hershel, Rick, could you come with me, please?"

The End.


	31. Heartbroken

Well, I made it thirty chapters without killing Carol or Daryl... *shrugs* Get the tissues ready.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Twenty: Heartbroken

Daryl Dixon never thought he would be a father.

When he was a kid, his old man would smack him around. And then, for the hell of it, his older brother would take a few swings, too. His mama died before he was a teenager, burned to nothing in her own bed. He had grown up feeling he was no good for anyone, and then the walkers took the world and suddenly he was banded together with a small group. All of a sudden, he was someone worthy, someone who knew how to hunt and provide food for the group. He grew especially close to one woman in particular after risking his life to find her daughter, only to discover the daughter had been dead right under their noses all along. It broke his heart and left him closed off until a little girl was born to the leader of their group. Daryl found himself falling in love with her, despite knowing she could die at any time. They all could. Then, when little Judith was barely a year old, Carol gave birth to his child, their child, and his life was turned upside down again.

"Dad!"

Daryl turned his head at the sound of his girl calling his name softly. Rosie was twenty now, and as beautiful as her mama. Carol's pregnancy had been hard; making Daryl resent the baby at first. But the first time he held Rosie in his arms, he was finally whole. Carol had been unable to have any more children, but they had Rosie and they were content.

He wiped the sweat from his brow and his gaze bounced briefly to Judith and Carl. Both of the Grimes children had become adept hunters due to spending so much time with him, but Rosie had his natural knack for hunting. Twenty years after the end of the world, things were still the same. They occasionally came across survivors, but the last one they had seen was a couple of years ago. Luckily, despite the walkers, the wildlife still flourished.

Rosie eased up to him. "Are you okay, Dad?" she whispered.

He gave her a strange look. "Course I am." He wasn't as young as used to be, of course, and some days were better than others. But his daughter was every bit as perceptive and intelligent as her mother, and her expression told him she didn't believe what he was saying. "I'm fine, girl." But as the words passed his lips, his heart lurched in his chest. He winced and bit back a hiss of pain.

She rolled her eyes and stepped away as something rustled in the trees above their heads. Raising her crossbow, she let a single arrow fly into the foliage. A moment later, a fat squirrel fell out of the tree and to the ground.

Daryl leaned against a nearby tree and watched with pride as Rosie grabbed the squirrel and pulled the arrow free before shoving it into her bag. She really was becoming an amazing young woman, and he wanted to think it was all because of having Carol for a mother. Carol was still very protective of her little girl, and so was Daryl for that matter. He made mistakes when Rosie was young. He still did. But she was smart, affectionate, a good hunter, generous, and damn near perfect with his crossbow, so he must have done something right.

He heard Rosie call out to him again, but when he raised his head, it was as though the world had turned under his feet. He was sweating even more, and his vision grew blurry. Vaguely he felt raindrops hit his head, and as his knees gave way beneath him, he found himself wondering if Carol would let Rosie take care of her after he was gone.

Then the world went black.

* * *

"Dad!" Rosie dropped her bag and raced to her dad's side as he collapsed to the ground. "Daddy, talk to me," she begged as she gently rolled him onto his back and rested her ear over his heart. She had done this all of her life, especially when she was scared, because the sound his heart made always reassured her. But the sound his heart made now wasn't reassuring at all. It sounded all wrong, and she looked up at Carl and Judith. "Go get Rick!" she ordered as she searched the surrounding area through the rain that was falling more steadily. They weren't far from the prison, but Rose was afraid to try to carry her dad back there. Her instincts told her it would be better for Carl and Judith to run back to the prison and retrieve their father. Before he died, Hershel had taught several members of the group everything he knew. Rick was the leader of their group, and after Hershel passed, he became the unofficial doctor of the group.

Without arguing, Carl and Judith took off, leaving Rosie alone with her father. The rain was coming down harder, and she began searching for shelter. A few yards away, she spotted a small opening hidden behind some moss. Resting her hand briefly on her dad's chest, she stood up and trotted over to the opening. It was just large enough for her dad to squeeze through, and it was dry and empty. If she could just get him inside, they would be safe and sheltered until Carl and Judith came back with help. Backing out of the cave, she returned to her dad and slid her hands under his arms. Her feet slid in the mud created by the rain, but inch by agonizing inch, she managed to drag him to the entrance of the cave. He didn't make a sound as she pulled him into the shelter. Once he was safe, she lowered herself to the ground and pulled him into her lap.

"Hang on, Daddy," she whispered as she retrieved a dry rag from her pocket and wiped the moisture from his face.

"Hang on.

* * *

"Rosie!"

Rosie jerked at the familiar voice calling her name, and her arms instinctively tightened around her dad. "Mom? Mom, we're here!" she called back, her throat tight with tears. Her dad hadn't stirred since she pulled him into the cave, and she was more scared than she had been in her entire life.

A moment later, her mom came through the entrance of the cave, followed by Rick. The ceiling of the cave was too low for either of them to stand up, so they crawled over to Rosie and Daryl. Carol reached them first.

"Oh, God, Daryl," she whispered, reaching out to touch his face. "Rosie, what happened, baby?"

"I don't know, Mama. He just fell over while we were hunting." She watched as her mother gently slid her arms under her father and pulled him into her embrace. Rosie was reluctant to let him go, but she remained silent.

Rick reached out and touched his fingers lightly to Daryl's neck. "Pulse is weak," he muttered.

"His heart didn't sound right after he fell," Rosie offered, her own heart clenching. The look on Rick's face made her sick.

"Carol, Rosie…"

* * *

Carol sobbed as Rick slipped out of the cave. Rosie sat nearby, her knees drawn up to her chin and her arms wrapped firmly around her legs. Of all the ways the end could have come about, this couldn't be it. A heart attack? Daryl was too strong for that. _Only a Dixon can kill a Dixon_. Did his own heart killing him count?

Her fingertips lightly stroked his cheek. He was breathing, but his breaths were labored and slow. This couldn't be happening. But it was, and she had no way of preventing it.

Rosie sniffled. "He can't die," she whispered.

"Baby," Carol choked, but she couldn't find the right words to continue. Rosie was smart. She knew what was happening, but they both desperately wanted to be wrong.

"Carol…" Daryl shifted in her arms, groaning quietly. Carol looked down at him and lovingly brushed his hair back.

"I'm here, Daryl," she assured him, her voice thick with tears. "I'm right here."

"Rosie…"

Rosie scrambled to his side and placed her hand on his chest. "I'm here too, Daddy."

His eyes flickered open briefly, and he managed a weak grin. "My girls…" His lungs rattled as a sudden coughing fit took hold.

Carol helped him sit up and recline slightly against her chest. Once the coughing fit ended, she gently wiped the tears from his eyes.

Daryl squinted at her. "Don' cry over me…" He looked at their daughter and reached out. She took his hand, and he squeezed it weakly. "I need ya ta take care of yer mama, Rosie…"

She sniffled and nodded.

He looked relieved as he relaxed in Carol's arms. Carol rubbed his side gently as she glanced around their surroundings. A strangled laugh escaped her throat. "Daryl… Do you know where we are?"

He grunted softly. "Yeah… First time…"

Nodding tearfully, she gently kissed his forehead. The last time they were in this cave, Rosie had been conceived. How befitting it was to find them back here…

"Carol…"

She looked down into his dim eyes. A moment passed between them, and they silently communicated everything they needed to. He didn't use words well, and now was no exception.

His eyes suddenly rolled back into his head, and his head fell back against Carol's shoulder. Carol wrapped her arm firmly around his shoulders and cradled his head to her. He gasped and went limp against her, wheezing quietly. Carol and Rosie cried silently as he struggled for each breath. They didn't want to lose him, but he was suffering and it wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

"It's okay, Daryl," Carol finally whispered into his ear. "I promise, it's okay."

He sighed and shuddered against her.

Rosie reached out and squeezed his hand tightly. "I love you, Daddy."

Carol could have sworn Daryl smiled just a little. He breathed in and let it out, and Carol and Rosie waited, but he didn't take another breath. Carol felt his heart stop, and her own heart shattered.

He was gone…

* * *

Rick was pacing just outside of the entrance to the cave when he heard the shot. He flinched and removed his hat, but no one emerged. He waited for a while, an hour at the least, and just when he was about to go into the cave, Carol and Rosie emerged. Both were dirty and had tears on their faces. "Carol…"

"I took care of it," she whispered, leaning heavily against her daughter.

Rick swallowed hard. Judging by the dirt on their hands and knees, he could assume they had buried Daryl in the cave. He kicked himself for not offering to help, but knowing Carol, she wouldn't have accepted any help. She had become a stronger woman than he had ever expected her to, and he felt proud of her. Reaching out, he gently rubbed her shoulder.

"Daryl would be proud," he murmured.

She shrugged his hand off. "Yeah." But they both knew what she was thinking.

_Daryl should still be here_.

The End.


	32. A Couple of Dreamers

A little bit of serendipity. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Thirty Two: A Couple of Dreamers

Daryl Dixon was pissed.

He grumbled to himself as he walked down the street, a box clutched in his hands. His brother had cost him another great job by showing up drunk and starting a fight with the foreman. Daryl had asked for another chance, but five minutes later he was clearing out his locker. Damn Merle! He needed this job and the good pay that came with it.

He was so angry as he turned a corner that he didn't notice the woman and child until he collided with them. His box flew out of his hands, and he swore. "Shit!"

"I'm so sorry!" the woman cried as she carefully but quickly untangled herself from him. "Here, let me help…"

He studied her briefly as they picked up his possessions. She was small and by no means gorgeous. Her short hair curled slightly and there were dark bruises on her skin. His anger gave just a little. No woman deserved to be beat on. The little girl with her was quiet and her blue eyes reflected pain beyond her years. He was taken aback by the surge of rage he felt. He didn't know who the hell these people were, and he was never going to see them again. What the hell did he care?

She put the last of the items into the box and pressed the box into his hands. "I'm sorry," she repeated. Electricity shot through his hand as her fingers brushed against his.

What the hell?

"'S 'kay," he grumbled, taking the box from her. "Try bein' more careful."

"Of course." The woman wrapped her arm around her daughter almost protectively. "Excuse us…" They stepped around him, and Daryl turned his head, watching them walk away. Damn women. He would never understand them. He adjusted his box and continued on home.

The brief encounter eventually faded from his mind. Then the world went to hell, and Daryl found himself at a quarry with his brother and a band of ragtag strangers. It wasn't until the second day at the quarry that he saw the woman and girl again, and he was stunned.

What were the odds?

The End.


	33. Do Not Touch

A little jealous Carol now! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Thirty Three: Do Not Touch

Carol had never seen herself as a jealous woman.

She'd had boyfriends before Ed, and when she started dating Ed, he had been the perfect boyfriend. Then the wedding rings went on and the real Ed came out. Gambling, whores, and a violent temper that cost her two children before she was able to carry Sophia to term. After Sophia was born, Ed lost any interest he might have had in Carol. When he came home, he reeked of booze and cheap perfume. She learned not to say a word about it. Eventually she realized she would never be good enough for him and she turned all of her affection toward her little girl, the most precious thing she had in her life.

So when she saw Andrea touch Daryl, she had no idea how to handle the sudden rage and jealousy she felt.

Daryl had finally made it back from Woodbury, bringing his brother, and the rest of the group had raised hell. So Merle was put in a cell in another part of the prison while Carol helped an injured Daryl to his perch. She stayed with him, tending to the wounds he wouldn't allow Hershel anywhere near. He didn't speak a lot, but she reveled in being near him again.

Two days after his return, Andrea showed up at the prison. Everyone except Michonne had been shocked to see her, but Rick had eagerly welcomed her back. She told them how she made it away from the farm and how Michonne rescued her, then how they survived on their own until they discovered Woodbury. Carol had been grateful to Andrea for saving her life, but the nine months since then had hardened her. She listened with mild interest to Andrea's story before retreating back to Daryl's perch to check on him.

Daryl was lying on his uninjured side, his back to the group and his eyes closed. One azure eye popped open when Carol crouched down in front of him and lightly touched her fingers to his forehead.

"Wha's goin' on down there?" he grumbled, but the grouchiness was tempered by the way he leaned into her hand.

"Andrea survived the farm, and she just showed up here."

He looked surprised. "Really?"

"Really."

Carol turned her head toward the arrogant voice. Andrea climbed up the steps and onto the perch.

"How are you doing, Daryl?"

Daryl grunted as he forced himself into a sitting position. "Fine."

On instinct, Carol reached out and steadied him. "Daryl, take it easy…"

"Yeah, tough guy." There was a gleam in Andrea's eye. "You look pretty rough." She knelt down in front of Daryl and touched his shoulder lightly.

Carol's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Andrea, you shouldn't be up here. Daryl needs to rest."

"Oh, I'm sure. That's why you're up here, right? To make sure he rests?"

The taunting tone combined with the fact that Andrea was still holding onto Daryl's shoulder made Carol snap. Her hand shot out and grabbed Andrea's arm roughly. "Come on, Andrea. I'm sure the rest of the group wants to see you."

"Hey…"

For such a tiny woman, Carol was strong. She dragged Andrea to the steps and nearly shoved her down them. Then she returned to Daryl, her cheeks flushed and hot.

Daryl looked up at her, an amused smirk tugging at his mouth. "What was that all 'bout?" he wondered as Carol urged him back down onto the pallet.

"Nothing."

His smirk widened. "Ya sure? Cause it looked like you were jealous."

She scoffed. "You wish."

"Pretty sure …"

"Daryl, knock it off."

His head settled on his pillow as he continued to smirk. "Ya don' need ta be jealous, girl."

"And why is that?" she retorted.

"Cause Andrea doesn' have a chance." He reached up and grabbed the front of her shirt in his fist. Then he pulled her down and crushed his lips against hers.

At first Carol didn't move. But she quickly settled into the kiss and slid her arms around Daryl, holding him tightly to her.

Maybe when her husband was alive, Carol wasn't a jealous woman. But things change, and if Andrea ever laid her hand on Daryl again, Carol would feed her to a walker.

The End.


	34. Bravery Follows

This story is officially my most reviewed story. Thank you all so very much, and enjoy this update!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Thirty Four: Bravery Follows

She had always said she would do anything to protect him.

Carol moved faster than lightning, her blood rushing and the sound of her heart beating filling her ears. Her life didn't matter; his did. He was a protector, a provider for the group. What did she do? Clean and cook. Very useful.

_Do the brave thing and bravery will follow_.

The walkers had come out of nowhere, surrounding them. Daryl fought valiantly, and when the last one fell, they were both filled with relief. But they had miscalculated. One lone walker crept up on them, and Carol had seen it first. There were only seconds to react, and she did. She shoved herself between Daryl and the walker, and when rotted teeth sank into her shoulder, it wasn't she who screamed. It was Daryl.

Carol fell into his arms and she heard him drive his knife into the walker's skull before he put his arms around her.

"What the hell did ya do?" he demanded angrily, and she looked up to see tears swimming in his eyes. She smiled in spite of the pain.

"I had to protect you." She crumbled against his chest, and the last thing she remembered was Daryl calling out to her as he lifted her into his arms.

Then…nothing.

* * *

When Carol collapsed into her arms, Daryl panicked. He could see the blood spreading across her shirt and the vicious bite mark, but he couldn't believe she could turn. So he swept her up into his arms and carried her back to the prison, where he prayed Hershel could treat her.

Carol didn't stir as Daryl brought her back to the prison, and just as he suspected, the group pounced on them once they were through the prison gate.

"What happened?" Rick demanded, his hand on his gun.

"She was bit." As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. At least three guns were suddenly on Carol, his Carol, and white-hot rage filled him. "Put 'em away!" he snarled.

"Daryl, she's been bit! Hershel can't do anything for her." Rick's gun remained trained on Carol.

Swearing, Daryl shoved through them. "The hell with all ya'll!" he yelled as he carried her into the prison and up to his perch.

She was shivering as he laid her carefully on his pallet. His hands trembled as he cleaned and covered the bite mark as best as he could. She looked so small as he removed her soiled shirt and dressed her in one of his clean ones. He probably should have gone to her cell to get her own clothes, but he no longer trusted anyone, so he wasn't going to leave her alone, even on his perch. To combat her shivering, he pulled several blankets around her, as well as his poncho. Then he sat down beside her and rested one hand lightly on her head. If she was dying, he wouldn't leave her side. And when the time came…

He swallowed hard and whispered gruffly, "Don' ya dare go, Carol." His voice dropped even lower.

"Please."

* * *

The hours passed slowly, with Daryl snarling at anyone who dared approach his perch. He knew what they were thinking, and he wouldn't allow it.

The fever hit quickly, causing Carol to moan and thrash on the pallet. When she called out his name, he gave up and crawled down beside her, pulling her firmly against him. The heat radiating off of her burned his skin, but he kept her close as she shivered. At least she had stopped crying out for him.

Dawn slowly crept up on them, and by then, Carol was barely breathing. Daryl had held her all night, and now he was sure he was losing her. So he began to talk. He told her about everything he could think of, from his first memory of his father hitting him to how he and Merle had made it to Atlanta and the quarry. He told her about seeing Merle when he was hurt while searching for Sophia, and he apologized for treating her the way he had. She hadn't deserved it.

He talked until he couldn't think of anything else to say, then he rested his head against Carol's and closed his eyes.

The sound of her breathing, or rather absence of it, made him sick. He waited for a moment, his hand slowly creeping toward his knife. When her hand twitched, his fingers closed around the handle. He couldn't let her become one of those…things. He couldn't. His heart ached as she jerked in his arms. The blade came to rest lightly against her temple. "'m so sorry, Carol," he whispered. "Sorry I didn' protect ya better." He applied a slight pressure to the blade.

Her eyes suddenly flew open and he winced, expecting to see the redness that accompanied the fever. But the blue that greeted him stunned him. His grip on the knife wavered. Her chest jerked as air rushed into her lungs and he heard the sweetest sound.

"Daryl…"

The End.


	35. The First Time

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Thirty Five: The First Time

The first time wasn't amazing.

It was awkward, messy, uncomfortable and disconcerting. It didn't happen in a bed; it happened in a closet in the prison just a few days after his miraculous escape from Woodbury.

It was something neither of them predicted happening. There had been a small herd of walkers, and without thinking, he had grabbed her hand and dragged her into the closet. There they stayed for hours, until the dead had long passed by the door.

Darkness enshrouded them in the tiny closet. They were pressed up against each other, the only sound being their rapidly beating hearts. Carol was still riding the high that came with Daryl's reappearance, and maybe her state was what emboldened her to do the thing she did.

She kissed him.

He was caught off-guard by the kiss, but it only took a moment for him to react. He grabbed the back of her neck and slid his other arm around her waist, locking her against him. They fought for control of the kiss, and somewhere in the battle, clothes were removed and hands explored flesh. The experience was new and old, terrifying and familiar. It was messy and awkward and uncertain as he took her against the wall and made her his.

Afterward, they eased the closet door open and peered outside. There were no walkers to be seen, so they crept out of the confined area together. Carol was certain Daryl would completely withdraw from her, so when he brushed his hand against hers and gave her a shy smile, she was taken aback.

Their first time wasn't amazing, but it fit them and that was more than they could have asked for.

The End.


	36. Beauty and the Beast

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Thirty Six: Beauty and the Beast

This was the last thing anyone in the group had seen coming.

After Maggie and Glenn were successfully rescued from Woodbury, it had taken Daryl two days to get back to the prison, and he wasn't alone. There had been a very… lively, bordering on violent, discussion on what to do with Merle. Daryl had threatened to leave if Merle couldn't stay, and they couldn't afford to lose him, so Rick reluctantly allowed Merle into the prison. Rick relieved him of the blade fixed to his arm, then locked him in a cell close to Daryl's perch, which Daryl appreciated.

Once the excitement died down, Carol took Daryl up to his perch and tended to his superficial wounds. Then she encouraged him to eat before she convinced him to lie down and sleep for a little while.

The tension in the air was thick, but Merle seemed to be on his best behavior, at least until he saw Beth.

Carol was the first to notice anything. It all started innocently enough, with Beth volunteering to take Merle his dinner and wash his clothing. Carol was uncomfortable, but it wasn't her place to say anything. Besides, she had her hands full enough with the younger Dixon brother. And she was fairly certain Merle would have little interest in the youngest Greene girl.

How wrong she was.

Late one night, footsteps woke Carol from a light sleep. She was tangled up with Daryl (that had taken a lot longer than she'd hoped) and at first she thought she was hearing things. Then she heard Beth's soft voice, followed by Merle's low gruff. The cell door didn't open, so Carol felt slightly better. But the day it did, she knew there would be problems. Beth was eighteen now, a grown woman capable of making her own decisions, but her father wouldn't take kindly to her being with Merle, even if her options were so limited. She would need to have a talk with Hershel on the young girl's behalf. Maybe it wasn't her business, but she cared about Daryl and Merle was his brother. She wanted to keep the peace among the group for as long as she possibly could.

She settled back down in Daryl's arms and closed her eyes, thinking of how she had smoothed out a lot of Daryl's rougher edges just by being there for him. Maybe Beth could do the same for Merle.

Carol supposed that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

The End.


	37. What Can't Be Undone

How about shaking things up a bit...?

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Thirty Seven: What Can't Be Undone

No one saw this coming.

Daryl wasn't a relationship guy. He never had been. He preferred to be out in the woods hunting and generally by himself. Of course, that was back when the world was semi-okay and before the dead rose. When the world was turned upside down, he began to appreciate the company of other humans, even if he still preferred hunting. Then he met Carol Peletier, and things began to change once more.

It took a full year for him to finally let her in, and even when he did, he was cautious. Humanity had burned him before; it would not hesitate to burn him again. But Carol…Carol was different. She was sweet and kind, soft where he was hard, and giving when he only seemed capable of taking. She had been there for him through everything, and in spite of everything. Nothing he did seemed to scare her away, and he was gradually realizing it wasn't a bad thing. She needed him, and some part of him needed her just as much, if not more.

"Daryl?"

He looked down at the small woman cradled in his arms. She was tucked against his chest, and his hand ran up and down her back without conscious thought. "Yeah?" he whispered.

"You're the best thing that's happened to me since Sophia."

Under the cover of darkness, his mouth quirked into a smile. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how if it wasn't for her, he probably would have abandoned the group long ago. But no matter how he tried, his mouth couldn't say the words. She seemed to sense his struggle.

"It's okay." Her hand came up and lightly feathered over his chest. "I know."

Ducking his head down, he softly kissed her forehead. Then he tightened his arms around her before closing his eyes.

"Love you, Daryl."

* * *

He knew something was wrong the moment he opened his eyes. Instinctively he held his breath and listened for Judith's cry. Then it hit him.

Carol, the woman he had held in his arms all night, the woman who held his battered heart in the palm of her tiny hand, wasn't breathing.

"Carol!"

* * *

Aneurism was Hershel's best guess. A condition that, even in the old world, would have been hard to diagnose and even harder to treat. She would have died either way.

_Not much comfort there_, Daryl thought bitterly as he stood over her grave. There was a Cherokee rose clutched between his trembling fingers. There had been a service for her, and afterward everyone left one by one, until Daryl was the only one who remained.

"Ya weren' s'posed to do this, Carol," he whispered. Dropping to his knee, he laid the rose over the fresh dirt. "Ya knew I needed ya." Why couldn't he have said it to her when he had the chance? Why did he have to be so damn stubborn?

A single tear leaked from his eye and down his rough cheek before hitting the dirt beneath him. He had buried her once before, but this time, she wouldn't be coming back. He had made sure of that with the help of his knife. She was gone and he would never see her again. He didn't even have a damn picture to help him remember her face. He looked over his shoulder, at the prison behind him. This place held nothing but pain and regret for him. Not even little Judith was enough of an incentive to stay. Rick would take care of her, as well as the rest of the group. They didn't need him, not anymore. And he didn't need them.

Reaching out, he grasped the crude wooden cross in his callused hand. "'m sorry, Carol," he muttered. "Sorry I didn'…" His voice failed him, and he hoped she understood. Slowly he stood up again and fished the keys to his motorcycle out of his pocket. Without looking back, he headed down the grassy knoll and climbed onto his bike. No one was there to stop him as he opened the gate and slipped away, this time for good. They wouldn't have been able to stop him anyway. He had buried everything that was good in him with Carol. He no longer gave a damn about anything.

Faintly he heard Judith cry as he sped away from the prison, but he never turned back.

The End.


	38. Firestorm

A quick reminder about these chapters: unless stated otherwise before each story, these stories are all unconnected. There are a few exceptions (the Reckless-verse, Fallen and Risen, etc) but for the most part, these are individual oneshots. Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Thirty Eight: Firestorm

Firestorm.

That was the only word Daryl could think of to adequately describe the situation. The governor hadn't waited for revenge after Daryl and Merle escaped from Woodbury. They had barely been at the prison for twenty-four hours when the governor's people showed up and all hell broke loose. The first screams came from Beth and Axel, who were out in the open prison yard. There was gunfire, and all Daryl could think of was getting to Judith and Carol.

Bursting through the doors and into the sunlight, Daryl quickly scanned the yard. He saw Beth kneeling over Axel with the baby in her arms. Swearing, he raced across the grass to them. Beth saw him coming and didn't fight when he took baby Judith from her arms. He spun around, gunfire filling his ears. Before he could reach the prison gate, a bullet hit his back and he went down. His body instinctively turned, keeping Judith from being crushed beneath his weight. He heard her cry before darkness claimed him, and he prayed someone would find her in time.

Then he knew no more.

* * *

"Daryl, just hang on."

Pain exploded in his back, and he groaned and thrashed. Familiar arms gently held him close, and his face was pressed into soft breasts.

The pain worsened, spreading all over his back, and his groggy mind slowly realized someone was digging into his back.

"Carol…" The word escaped his lips like a prayer.

"I'm right here, Daryl."

There was another wave of pain, and he twisted in her arms, crying out again. Then unconsciousness swept over him again, taking away the pain.

* * *

Tears rolled down Carol's cheeks as Daryl slipped back into unconsciousness. Across from her, Hershel was digging into the younger man's back to retrieve the bullets left in his body. They had found Daryl and Judith alive, a complete miracle considering they had lost Axel and most of Tyreese's group in the process. Their group had been largely spared, with Daryl's injuries being the worst. When they had found him, there had been no time to stop and assess the situation. Merle and Rick had grabbed the younger Dixon and carried him to the nearest car, with Carol following closely behind and Beth carrying the baby. Most of the shooters had been taken out, but they couldn't stay, not now. So they gathered what supplies they could while Carol stayed with Daryl in the car to monitor his condition.

Once they had left the prison and were a safe distance away, they parked the cars and called Hershel to the car where Carol was holding Daryl. Since there were no tables to lay the wounded Dixon on, Carol had held him against her, allowing Hershel access to Daryl's back. She heard him when he said there were two entrance wounds and no exit wounds, which probably saved his life.

"Got it," Hershel announced, pulling the second bullet out of Daryl's back.

"Hey, we gotta go," Rick said, his mouth drawn in a worried frown.

Grumbling, Hershel stitched the wounds closed as quickly as he safely could. "Carol, do you think you can hold him just like that for a while?"

They both knew there was no way of knowing for how long, but she nodded. She suspected Hershel had underlying motives. There was no promise Daryl would live through this.

Nodding, Hershel slid out of the backseat and moved to the front seat to sit beside Rick.

The car started, and Carol held Daryl tightly as they continued down the road.

* * *

"Carol!"

Daryl gasped as his eyes shot open. He didn't know where he was, and the floor he was lying on was suspiciously soft. It took a moment for him to realize he was lying in a bed. His back hurt and his entire body was stiff. He flexed his hand slowly and took in his surroundings. He was in a bedroom, and the bed he was in was large and comfortable, complete with clean sheets. His filthy clothes were gone, but he could tell he was wearing a pair of sweatpants.

The door opened and he instinctively reached for a weapon that was nowhere near him. Maggie poked her head in, and her eyes grew large and round. "You're up!" She lit up and let out a loud whistle. "Carol! He's awake!"

Just a few moments later, he heard footsteps racing toward the bedroom. Maggie disappeared, allowing Carol to step into the room. Daryl gawked at her. She was wearing a white sundress and her face was scrubbed free of any dirt and grime.

"Daryl… Thank God." She moved to the bed, smiling in a way he had never seen her smile before.

"Wha' happened?" he croaked.

There was a glass of water by the bed, and she picked it up, holding it up to his lips. "Drink," she gently commanded.

He obliged, taking a few sips before waving it off.

"You were shot at the prison. We weren't sure you were going to make it." She sat down on the edge of the bed with him. "Hershel was able to remove the bullets and stitch you up."

"Where are we?"

Her smile widened. "We found a farmhouse. It looks like the owners took off when everything went down. There was even a generator, clothes, and some cows wandering around in a pen outside."

He was shocked. "Ya sure I'm still alive?"

"I'm sure," she chuckled. But she sobered quickly. "You've been unconscious for a week." Her hand reached out and gently touched his arm, and he didn't pull away. "I thought… I thought I was going to lose you."

"Well, ya didn'," he muttered gruffly.

"I didn't. And I'm glad."

His eyes closed briefly, and he was stunned when she brushed her lips gently against his forehead. "The hell was that for?"

"I'm just thankful you're alive." The bed creaked as she slid off of it. "Rest." Her hand feathered lightly through his hair.

For once, he welcomed the touch.

* * *

Two days after Daryl regained consciousness, Maggie and Glenn were out in the yard in front of the farmhouse, discussing a run into town. Beth and Merle had disappeared, and Glenn was beginning to have his suspicions about the two. He glanced over his shoulder and a smile spread across his face. "Maggie, look." He nudged his girlfriend's shoulder.

On the porch, Carol was helping Daryl through the front door. Her arm was wrapped around his middle and he was leaning heavily on her, but he was standing on his own.

Grinning, Glenn called out, "Come on, Daryl!" He wasn't surprised when Daryl flipped him off. He just laughed.

It was good to laugh again.


	39. Fallen Hero

This one is a bit shorter due to the fact that we had some tornadoes touching down here and my school was on lockdown for a good part of the day. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Thirty Nine: Fallen Hero

She was with him, at the end.

He hadn't wanted her to be. He had done everything he could to scare her off, to make her leave him. Like an old dog, he just wanted to find a place alone to lie down and die. But she was stubborn, more stubborn than he had ever seen her. Maybe it was the blood loss due to the gaping wound on his shoulder, or maybe it was something deeper, something longing to connect with another person. Whatever it was, he had finally given up. He climbed onto his bike and she got on behind him, her arms winding around his waist and holding him tightly.

She fit.

They had driven for hours, until he was too weak to keep going. Then she took over for him, and he relished having a reason to lean into her and rest his head on her shoulder.

She drove the bike until they found a small house free of any walkers. She made him stay on the bike while she checked the house. Once she had cleared it, he wearily followed her inside and to a musty bed she guided him to. The fever was setting in, making him shiver despite his best efforts not to. He curled up in the bed on his uninjured side, and without a word, he pulled her down with him. She seemed eager to snuggle up against his back and draped her arm over him. He was just content to have her close.

By dawn, he was barely breathing. His lungs were on fire, and Carol held him close to keep him from jostling himself. His shoulder was a painful mess. He could feel the infection running rampant through his system, shutting down his organs and slowly killing him. How could he have been so stupid, to let down his guard for even a second?

He looked up at Carol's worried face. "'S'kay," he mumbled hoarsely. He was suddenly unable to keep his eyes open any longer, and he let them slide shut. Carol's hand ran through his hair, offering him some small amount of comfort. He never should have let her see this, but with his own death impending, he was suddenly grateful he wasn't alone.

"I love you, Daryl."

He smiled as her arm tightened around him. A warmth spread to his chest, wiping away the pain previously there. He sighed and relaxed in Carol's arms, knowing he was finally safe.

His heart stopped a moment later.

* * *

Silent tears ran down Carol's cheeks as Daryl slipped away from her and his chest stilled. A cold settled deep in her bones, one she knew she would never be able to shake. Daryl was gone.

With trembling hands, she retrieved her knife from its sheath. She wouldn't let him turn into one of those things. Not now, not ever.

She placed the blade under his chin, and her hand began to shake.

This couldn't really be the end.

With a sob, she shoved the blade through his skin.

But if it couldn't be the end, then how come it was?

The End.


	40. One Way or Another

303 reviews! You guys are freaking AMAZING! Thank you all so, so much, and please enjoy this fluffy twist on the events surrounding Sophia's disappearance.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Forty: One Way or Another

This never should have happened.

It was absolutely unfathomable. There was no way in hell this should have happened. It was against all the odds, against the order of the universe itself.

Daryl gasped and winced as he bent over and gathered Sophia's tiny frame into his arms. His side ached and throbbed, making him nauseous. But Sophia was _alive_! She was alive and breathing in his arms. He cradled her to his chest and glanced around. Damned horse was nowhere near. He would have to walk back to the farm with Sophia in his arms.

Hell, she had survived a week on her own in the forest with walkers. The least he could do was carry her back to the farm, to her mama.

Carol.

A smile slowly formed as he started back toward the farm with Sophia tucked safely against his chest.

"Ya hang on, girl."

* * *

An hour later, he let out a relieved breath when the farm finally came into sight. He was exhausted but he kept pushing forward. He had to get Sophia to safety. His legs continued to move, and just when he thought he was ready to collapse, he heard a familiar voice shout his name.

"Daryl!"

Rick's voice carried over the distance. Daryl grinned.

Almost there…

Carol reached them first, the concern of a mother propelling her faster and faster, past Rick and Shane.

Daryl gasped when she plowed into them, her arms wrapping around both him and Sophia. He tried to back out of the embrace, but she held tightly to both of them as she sobbed. Sophia finally woke up and cried as well as she reached out to her mother.

"Thank you, Daryl," Carol whispered over and over. "Thank you, thank you."

"Nothin' to thank," he insisted gruffly as Carol took her daughter from his arms. Without Sophia, he felt strangely empty, but he was grateful for the sight in front of him.

One way or another, he had sworn. One way or another, he would bring Sophia home.

And he had.

The End.


	41. Ipso Facto

And another way Daryl could return from Woodbury. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Forty One: Ipso Facto

Relief.

For the first time in a long time, Carol actually felt r_elief_ as she climbed down from Daryl's perch. He had finally returned to the prison a few hours ago, and after Hershel bandaged all of his wounds, Daryl was finally sleeping on his perch. Carol had stayed with him for a while, just watching him sleep and reveling in the fact that he had been safely returned to her.

A smile spread across her face as she walked. Other than a few superficial wounds, he had been largely unharmed and she was grateful.

"Hey, sugartits."

Carol faltered. When Daryl had shown up earlier, he hadn't been alone. Merle had been with him, and Maggie and Glenn had raised hell. As far as she knew, Rick was still discussing it with the group.

Merle came around and stopped in front of her. The blade had been removed from his arm, giving her a glimpse of the stump where his hand had once been.

"What do you want, Merle?"

"Didn' ya have a husban' an' a kid?"

Right to the point with this ass. "Yes," she ground out. "They're gone."

"That's too bad." He took a step closer to her. "So, yer all 'lone."

She shifted uncomfortably as his greedy eyes looked over her. "Not really."

"Hmm. Well, whatcha say we head on up to the guard tower…" He extended his left hand and touched her arm.

"Git yer hand offa her, Merle," a voice growled deeply from behind her.

Relief and concern washed over Carol, but Merle sneered.

"What's the matter, baby brother? Jus' bein' friendly."

An arm slid around her waist, and she gasped as she was drawn back against a broad chest.

"Play along," he whispered against her ear. Then he raised his voice for his brother's benefit. "She's fuckin' mine, Merle. Touch her an' I'll kill ya."

Huffing, Merle scratched the back of his head. "Fine. Suppose you wouldn' wanna share with your ol' Merle, would ya?"

"No fuckin' way." His grip tightened noticeably on her.

"Fine." He leveled a suggestive look at Carol. "But if ya wanna step up, sweetpea, ya know where to find me."

"No, thanks." Carol leaned back into Daryl's embrace, relishing his closeness even if it was only for show.

Eyeing her one more time, Merle finally turned around and left, no doubt to stir up trouble elsewhere.

Once he was gone, Daryl dropped his arm.

Blushing, Carol turned around and looked at Daryl. He was pale and obviously not ready to be on his feet yet. She took his arm and ushered him back to his perch. "Let's get you back to bed."

He grumbled but followed her lead.

She helped him up the stairs and watched as he stretched out on his pallet and tucked his arm underneath his head. "Thanks."

"Huh?"

"Your brother is…"

"An ass?" he supplied, stifling a yawn.

She chuckled and pulled a blanket over him. "You said it."

"'S the truth. Dixons just are."

Carol thought about his words. "You're not," she finally replied.

"Hmm."

His eyes finally closed completely and his breathing evened out as he drifted into sleep. Carol stayed with him for a while, her heart still racing from their embrace.

What had she gotten herself into?

The End.


	42. His

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Forty Two: His

"Daryl!"

Looking up from the deer he was gutting, Daryl frowned. He was covered in blood and filth but wore a sense of pride and accomplishment. Deer were hard to come by, especially nice, fat ones like these. He had tracked it for the better part of the day, and when he finally caught it, he dragged it the two miles back to the prison.

Glenn came jogging up, clearly out of breath and excited. "Maggie says Carol is having contractions!"

The knife slipped from Daryl's hand. Contractions? Hershel said the baby wasn't supposed to get there for another month! "What?" he finally croaked. They weren't ready for this._ He_ wasn't ready for this! He didn't know much about babies, but they were supposed to stay in there for a certain amount of time. If they came out before then, bad things could happen.

"Carol's having contractions!"

Swearing, Daryl abandoned the deer and took off for the prison, leaving Glenn behind in his wake.

He had to get to Carol.

* * *

Carol was sitting on the perch when Daryl barreled up the stairs. Her hands were cupping her belly and there was a faraway look on her face.

"Hey… Ya okay?" He lowered himself down beside her, his heart racing.

She finally looked at him. "I'm fine. False alarm."

He raised an eyebrow. "False alarm?"

"Braxton Hicks contractions. The baby will be here soon, and this will happen more and more often."

More false alarms? "Really?" he finally said lamely.

"Really."

Without warning, she laid her head on his shoulder. He stiffened instinctively, but forced himself to relax. His woman needed him, and he was damn well gonna be there for her. "Ya need anything?"

"No." She yawned and pressed herself closer to him.

Letting out a deep breath, he slid his arms under her. "C'mere…" With practiced ease, he guided her into his lap and settled her against his chest. When she had told him she was pregnant, he hadn't handled it well. In fact, he had taken off for a weeklong hunt the day she told him. When he came back, she had cornered him and explained how she expected nothing from him, and it had pissed him off. The whole thing ended when he grabbed her and kissed her so hard, they were both breathless. After that, things were still a little weird. But when she started to show, something took hold in him. He moved all of her things up to his perch under the pretense that she would be safer with him. He never let her go more than a few yards from him, and if she was out of his sight for any amount of time, he made Glenn or Maggie stay with her.

His hand settled over her belly, where his child grew within her. She and Rick both said his newfound attitude had to do with hormones and shit, but they were wrong. They were his, and he would protect them with his life. Dixons always protected what was theirs.

And they were his.

The End.


	43. Tell It to the Frogs

This update was written as a present for PrintDust. Print, here's your Lori and Rick! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Forty Three: Tell It to the Frogs

"He's a cop, like you."

Lori was vaguely aware of the ongoing conversation as she tried to comfort her son without breaking down herself. It wasn't fair. Rick had been shot only for the world to go to hell in a hand basket. Shane had been the one to tell her that Rick was gone, and she was barely able to process the news before he practically dragged her and Carl out of the house. The things were everywhere, and she didn't have any time to grieve for her husband, or to let her son grieve for his father. God, none of this was right.

She took Carl's hands and squeezed them tightly, smiling at him with tear-filled eyes. "You know your daddy is always going to be in your heart, right, baby? As long as we remember him, he'll always be there." The words were easy enough to say, but she would have given anything to have Rick back.

Carl suddenly looked away from her, and before she could stop him he ripped his hands out of hers and took off. Her eyes widened as Carl screamed, "Dad! Dad!"

A few feet away, the very subject of her thoughts and prayers was walking toward them. Rick was alive! How was it possible? Her eyes grew wide with disbelief watching Rick grabbed their son and dropped to his knees with him. Slowly she stood up, her mouth agape as Rick stood up and carried Carl over to her. Her arms came up and folded themselves around him; she clung to him with a desperation she hadn't felt since Shane told her Rick was dead and the undead took over the world.

She briefly caught Shane's torn gaze as she held tightly to Rick and Carl. Shane had lied to her. Rick was alive. Her family was safe. Her stomach briefly curled as she stared at Shane, but a wave of relief and happiness also hit her. She buried her nose in Rick's neck, her fingers curling in the hair on the back of his head.

There was no way she would ever let him go again.

The End.


	44. Hunter

This is a prequel of sorts to my Bound to Burn story, He Gets That From Me. Caryl abounds in this chapter! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Forty Four: Hunter

Snow.

Two years after the world they had known had come to a sudden and brutal end, the dead still walked the earth.

Daryl Dixon sighed as he took in his snowy surroundings. This had to be the most snow Georgia had seen in at least ten years. He had even gone as far as to trade his sleeveless shirts in for a warm jacket he had stumbled upon during one of his runs into a nearby abandoned town. He had been quite pleased with that run in particular, mostly for all the clothes he had found as well as the medicine and different medical supplies.

Snow crunched beneath his heavy boot as he moved. The farm they had been calling home for the past year or so came into his view, causing his mouth to lift into the slightest of smiles. They had put up the best fight they possibly could when the Governor attacked the prison, but it had been to no avail. At least the group had escaped unscathed and with most of their supplies. They went on the run after the attack and didn't stop for at least a month, until they found the farmhouse. Large, spacious and seemingly safe, it reminded them all of the Greene farm. Rick took a room for himself and his family, and Maggie and Glenn claimed a room next to the one Hershel and Beth took. Michonne found a small bedroom away from the rest of the group, Daryl and Merle elected to share a room, and the room beside theirs became Carol's.

His smile widened as he trudged through the snow. The bedroom had not been the only thing Daryl had claimed as his own…

"Yo, baby brother! Get yer ass up here!"

Daryl looked up and saw his brother standing on the porch, a small, uncomfortable smile on his face. Immediately Daryl's stomach turned. "What happened?" They still ran into the occasional walker, but the numbers were considerably less since they had left the prison. His mind went to Carol, his woman. "Carol okay?" His feet moved faster and faster, carrying him over the wet and slick ground.

"Jus' come on."

Finally Daryl's feet hit the porch, and he followed Merle upstairs. When it became obvious that he and Carol were an item, Merle had traded rooms with Carol so he could still be close to his brother but the new couple could have a little more privacy. Somewhere in the house, he could hear Judith squealing for attention. She was getting bigger and bigger every day, thank God. The world she was growing up in was dangerous, but at least she was growing up.

At the top of the stairs, two doors down was the room he shared with Carol. Without sparing a glance at Merle, Daryl pushed the bedroom door open and stepped in. A wave of heat him first; he quickly noticed several small kerosene heaters littering the floor.

Carol was lying in the middle of their bed, partially buried by several thick comforters. Her breaths escaped in heavy pants.

Yanking his crossbow off his back and setting it against the wall, Daryl rushed over to her side, his heart racing. "Ya okay?" he demanded anxiously as he leaned in to kiss her clammy forehead. Despite the thick blankets and having most of the heaters in their room, she was still cold and the air had a chill to it. Without thinking, he sat down beside her and eased his arm around her thin shoulders.

She smiled half-heartedly at him. "Fine."

"Liar."

Hershel chose that moment to limp into the room. Daryl glared at him. "What'd ya leave her 'lone fer?"

"Not much I can do while she's in labor, son," Hershel proffered. "But try not to worry. I'll be right here when this baby makes her debut."

Snorting, Daryl returned his attention to his woman. She shivered and he pressed closer to her, easily tucking her into his side. It was probably in the low twenties outside, and not a whole lot better inside. Never had he wished so badly for electricity. This was all his fault. He never should have been so careless. Not with her. Neither of them had thought about protection because neither of them thought she could get pregnant again. She had told him about all the miscarriages she suffered before giving birth to Sophia, and for a long time he was angry with himself for hoping this pregnancy might end the same way. They barely managed with one baby. How were they going to manage with two?

He didn't have long to contemplate the thought. Carol tensed in his embrace and groaned, her hands clutching her swollen stomach. Terrified, Daryl could only sit there and pray everything was going as it should.

There was little else he _could_ do, and he had never felt so helpless.

* * *

"Here he comes, Carol. Keep pushing."

Daryl instinctively held Carol tighter as she cried out in pain, her entire body locked and rigid. Her cries shredded his heart and he wanted desperately to trade places with her so she wouldn't feel this pain anymore.

Suddenly Carol went limp against his chest at the same moment Hershel announced gleefully, "It's a boy!" Daryl's arms held Carol protectively to him as the baby screeched unhappily. The vet put the baby in Daryl's arm, and the next few minutes were a blur as Carol was cleaned up and fresh bedding was placed on the bed.

Unaware of anything else, Daryl stared at the scrunched-up face of the child in his arm. His son. After his initial cry, the baby had fallen silent and was now staring up at his father with familiar eyes.

Carol finally stirred against Daryl's chest. "Daryl…"

"Right here." He briefly tore his gaze from his son long enough to kiss Carol's forehead. "'s a boy."

Her mouth turned up in a weary smile. "'nother Dixon man," she mumbled.

He snorted as she snuggled even closer to him. "What're we gonna name him?"

"Dunno," Carol managed around a yawn. She was nearly asleep, nestled snugly against his chest. "You pick."

_You pick_. Daryl's brow furrowed as he studied his son. Until now, this whole experience had been surreal. But now there they were, a family. He had a family.

"Hunter," he said suddenly, startling a dozing Carol. "His name's Hunter."

Carol smiled drowsily. "Hunter," she repeated, her voice laden with sleep. "Hunter Dixon. Good choice."

"Hmm."

Less than a minute later, Carol was sleeping peacefully cuddled against him. Daryl's attention was riveted to Hunter's little face. He was a father.

In her sleep, Carol shivered. Swearing softly, Daryl pulled a blanket around her and tucked the baby between both of them. The little guy couldn't have been more than five or six pounds, much smaller than Judith had been when she was born. Already he felt a desperate need to protect both of them. He turned his body slightly, curling himself around his woman and his child. One large hand settled protectively over Hunter's little body.

They would never have an easy life. That much was clear. But lying there, holding his whole world in his arms and knowing he could protect them, Daryl Dixon finally felt at peace.

The End.


	45. Slow

Update time! Dare I hope for 400 reviews? :) Caryl shippers, enjoy and rejoice!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Forty Five: Slow

It was snowing the first time he came to her.

They had been on the run for weeks since the prison went down, and every new place they stopped was either overrun by walkers or too small to fit what remained of their group. Carol was just grateful they had been largely unscathed. When the snow started to fall, hard and heavy against the biting wind, the urgency to find a new safe haven intensified. They drove for as long as they could, days at a time, before they would stop at a semi-secure location just long enough to sleep. It was a hard life, but the life they had once known was gone and there was no bringing it back.

Three days after the snow began falling, they stumbled upon a small, long abandoned warehouse. It was large enough for them to take shelter for a few days, long enough to search the surrounding area for supplies and try to regroup. The first night, desperate for warmth, everyone huddled together to share body warmth. Rick, Carl and Judith slept close together, while Maggie, Glenn and Beth bundled up, mourning the loss of Hershel together. Merle took a corner and sulked by himself.

A painful loneliness hit Carol as she curled up on the floor with a thin blanket. Shivers went through her body as she fought to hold back her tears. At night, when things slowed down and she had nothing to focus on, her thoughts went to Sophia. God, she missed her little girl.

Everyone had already fallen asleep, but Carol was still wide awake, watching her breaths escape in little puffs from her mouth. She heard Merle muttering to himself and the baby snuffling as she slept in her father's arms.

Her entire body tensed when a distinct and familiar scent filled her nostrils. She didn't have time to think or even breathe before his arm slipped around her waist and his chest was pressed up against her back. Her shivering eased as Daryl's warmth seeped into her bones and her eyelids grew heavy. She had imagined being in his arms thousands of times before, but her imagination was nothing compared to the real thing.

Eventually she dozed off, surrounded by his warmth and comforted by his presence.

* * *

When she awoke the next morning, she was cold again and Daryl was nowhere to be found. For a moment, she wondered if it had all been a dream. Then she realized his jacket was draped over her, and she smiled.

It was the first time he had come to her, but something told her it wouldn't be the last.

The End.


	46. Guardian

400 reviews! You are all AMAZING! And now I present you with quite possibly my favorite Love Bite to date...Guardian! This has potential to turn into a full-fledged story, but I'll let you guys decide! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Forty Six: Guardian

It started out as a quiet day. Then, as the hours wore on, a sense of impending doom hung over the prison. The men were busy gathering weapons and making plans for a final stand, as well as plans for where they would meet should the plan fail. Michonne and Beth stood in the guard tower, and Carol stayed with Beth and the baby, away from the activity. Contingency plans of all kinds were made as the thunder rolled overhead, signaling the coming storm.

When it finally happened, the group fought valiantly. But in the end Carol, Carl, Beth and the baby fled deeper into the tombs, where a single room had been stocked with a few weapons and enough supplies to sustain them for a few days. Carol was terrified, but kept a stoic mask to keep the children calm. Even Judith seemed to sense the tension in the air, because she snuggled into Carol's arms and remained completely silent.

Eventually an unsettling silence fell over the prison. Carol kept the teenagers and baby in the room with her; she had no idea what lay beyond the door, and for now, they were safe. So she coaxed Beth and Carl into sitting on the ground and taking a brief nap. When they were both sleeping, Carol picked a spot by the door and settled Judith on her shoulder. The baby snuggled into her warmth and made a soft noise before surrendering to sleep as well. Carol envied her. She only wished sleep would come so easily for her.

The hours passed until Carol lost complete track of time. Thankfully the group had thought ahead and also stocked the room with formula, bottles and diapers. She was able to change and feed Judith while Carl and Beth slept restlessly.

The sound of the door swinging open sent Carol scrambling to her feet. Michonne and Merle appeared in the room, both wearing looks of distress. By this point, Carl and Beth were awake and stumbling to their feet. Carol had countless questions, but Michonne shook her head and began grabbing supplies.

"We gotta go."

* * *

Bodies were littered everywhere and Carol did her best to shield Beth and Carl's eyes. As far as Michonne could tell, Maggie and Glenn were waiting for them at the highway with Daryl. No one had seen Rick, and Michonne wouldn't answer Carol's questions about the roughneck's condition. But the look on Merle's face gave too much away. Whatever shape Daryl was in, it wasn't good. Hershel had been lost, along with Andrea. They had no time to look for Rick as the group split up and made their way to the cars. Carol took Judith and followed Michonne, while Carl and Beth went with Merle. Merle and Michonne had two cars fueled and ready to go. They would meet at the highway, where Glenn and Maggie already were.

Once the cars were rolling, it took twenty minutes to safely arrive at the highway. Michonne parked the car and Carol jumped out, quickly spotting Maggie and Glenn. The younger couple was clinging to each other, clearly distressed. Carol heard the other car pull up moments later, and the Greene sisters wept as they raced into each other's arms. Glenn, just as distraught, gathered both Maggie and Beth in his arms and held them tight. They were the only family each other had now.

Fear clutched Carol's heart as she scanned their surroundings. Abandoned cars were everywhere; rotting bodies scattered all over the concrete. Daryl was nowhere to be seen.

Passing her, Merle hurried over to the car closest to Glenn and the Greene girls. With no effort, he pulled the door open, and Carol's breath left her.

Daryl.

Moving of their own accord, her feet carried her faster and faster over the terrain, until she was standing behind Merle. She could see over his shoulder and into the car. Daryl was sprawled out on the backseat, looking largely unharmed except for a nasty gash on the side of his head. "Daryl?" she called out shakily, not even realizing she had spoken until the uncertain sound filled her ears.

Daryl's head lifted up slightly when he heard her. "Carol? Ya okay?"

She wanted to weep with joy. He was okay. "I'm fine. So is Ass kicker, Carl and Beth."

"Kept 'em safe?"

"Of course." But something made her deeply unsettled. Daryl's eyes were closed the entire time he spoke to her. She tried to chalk it up to exhaustion. He was fine, but they needed to get out of the open, out of this vulnerable position.

Merle looked over his shoulder and into her eyes. "We gotta get outta here. Give the baby ta Beth and ride with us."

"Merle-"

"Don' argue with me, mouse!" he snapped, and Carol detected an underlying panic in his rugged voice. "Michonne's gonna go with the rest of 'em, but we need ya with us."

Nodding shakily, Carol stepped away from him and gave the baby to Beth. "Keep her safe, sweetie."

"I will," Beth promised before she followed her sister and Glenn to their car. Michonne gave Carol a reassuring look before she walked around and climbed into the driver's seat of the van they had chosen.

Carol watched them, wondering if Merle and Michonne had made a plan to meet up somewhere nearby. She tried not to think that this could be the last time they saw them. Instead she practically ran back to the car where Daryl was. Merle had closed the door and gotten into the driver's seat, and Carol hesitated for only a brief moment before she reopened the door and slid into the backseat with Daryl. The engine roared to life and it was only then when she saw a small herd of walkers shambling toward them.

In the driver's seat, Merle swore and slammed his foot against the gas pedal. "Hang on!"

On instinct, Carol reached out and grabbed Daryl, who instinctively froze against her. But after what felt like an eternity, he relaxed and allowed her to hold him closer. Carol delighted in the embrace and rested her chin on the top of his head, one arm wrapped loosely around his shoulders. She could see the road ahead of them, but she couldn't see Michonne's van. Her heart clenched but she remained silent. They would be fine. Michonne and Glenn would do a fine job protecting them until they were all reunited again.

Daryl's heart beat a frantic pattern against her chest, but she knew he was exhausted by the way his head drooped down into the crook of her neck. On instinct, she kissed his sweaty hair and lost herself in the road ahead of them.

After a while, Merle spoke softly from the driver's seat. "He asleep yet?"

Carol looked down at the almost comical sight of big, tough Daryl cradled in the arms of a woman half his size. "I think so."

"Good." There was a long pause. "We got a problem, mouse."

A sick feeling threatened to overwhelm her, but she fought to keep herself together. She had to, if for no one else but Daryl. "What?"

Merle gripped the steering wheel tightly with his good hand. "His head… One of those sick fucks hit him with the butt of his gun."

The gash on his head…But somehow she sensed this wasn't the worst of what Merle had to say. So she waited.

"Mouse…I think Daryl's blind."

Carol heard her sharp intake of air. "What?"

"He… When I found him, he couldn' see me. Couldn' see ya at the highway. Only knew it was ya cause he heard ya."

Blind…This couldn't be happening! Not to Daryl. In a world where any disability was a potential death sentence, their lives constantly hung in a precarious balance.

"Hey, we gotta keep it together!" she finally heard Merle say harshly. "Daryl's countin' on us. I let him down too many times before. I won't do it 'gain! He needs us both."

_He needs us both_… She looked down at Daryl, still sleeping uneasily in her arms. For once, Merle was absolutely right. If Daryl really was blind, he was going to rely on them in ways he never had before. He would need them both to be strong for him. He had been so strong for her in the past year. Now it was her turn.

Her fear and uncertainty melted into steely resolve right then as she studied Daryl's weary features. Never would she let any harm come Daryl's way.

She would die first.

The End...?

A/N: And now a bit of personal info: I get to meet Norman Reedus next weekend! :DDD I even have a little squirrel to give him! *dies* WHY CAN'T IT BE FRIDAY YET? *ahem* Thanks for reading, and be sure to drop me a little review! If a lot of people like this, I might write a sequel for it or even turn it into a WIP. Let me know what you guys think!


	47. Insanity

Spoilers ahead for This Sorrowful Life, and character deaths. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Forty Seven: Insanity

She knew the outcome before Daryl ever reached the prison gate.

As soon as she knew he was missing and Rick had ended his meeting, Carol handed the baby off to Beth and took watch at the gate. Either Daryl would come back with Merle and the power struggle would resume, or Daryl would come back in his brother's blood. Never had she imagined he _wouldn't_ come back to the prison. It just wasn't an outcome in her mind.

Everyone else began to prepare for war, but Carol remained glued to the fence, her fingers clinging to the chain links. She couldn't move, not while Daryl was still out there. She had to see him again, tell him how much he meant to her and how she would have been dead long ago if not for him.

Finally she saw a figure move stealthily behind the throngs of walkers, and she let go of a breath she had been holding. Daryl moved with ease, not drawing attention to himself as he came closer and closer to the gate. Carol moved as well, ready to pull the gate open as soon as he was close enough to run through it. When he was finally within a few feet of the gate, she flung it open and welcomed him inside. He was covered in blood, fresh blood, and his eyes were red and swollen. Without a word, Carol reached out and rested her hand on his arm.

He closed his eyes briefly. "Merle…"

"I know. I know." Looping her arm around his neck, she stood on her toes and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. He froze, uncertain of what to do, but she didn't let him pull away. She could have lost him. She still could lose him. The fear was enough to spur her into action. Her lips moved further until they were touching his. The kiss was short, but everything seemed to slow down around them as he groaned and pulled her against his chest. His hand splayed out over her lower back.

The explosion of gunshots nearly deafened Carol. Instinctively she clung to Daryl, but when she felt his body jerk, she panicked. With strength that belied her small body, she pulled him to the ground and stretched herself over him, shielding his head as best as she could. People were screaming and small explosions could be heard mixing with the groans of the dead, but Carol no longer cared. She rested her head against Daryl's and closed her eyes tightly.

What was the definition of insanity? Doing something over and over expecting a different outcome.

"Carol…"

Blood dribbled from the corner of Daryl's mouth and Carol leaned closer, her heart breaking as she became the witness to Daryl's final moments.

Neither of them would have wanted it any other way.

* * *

When the gunfire finally ceased, Maggie raced over to where she had seen Daryl and Carol fall. Carol was draped over Daryl, and Maggie held hope that they were somehow unscathed. But when she heard Carol sobbing, she knew nothing would ever be okay again.

Daryl's eyes were wide and unseeing as Carol cried into his chest. Slowly Maggie lowered herself to the ground beside Carol. "Carol…"

"Don't touch him!" Carol hissed, startling the younger woman. "Get away!"

Helpless, Maggie could only watch as Carol continued to cry into Daryl's still chest. They had won, but at what cost?

Their humanity?

The End.


	48. Those Familiar Connections

Here we go, chapter forty eight of Love Bites. I still cannot believe this story has 451 reviews! I'm hoping this story might see 500 reviews by the time I post the fiftieth chapter. Also, I wanted to post an update before the season finale and let everyone know that I made it to Nashville to meet Norman! I included another A/N at the end of this story all about my wonderful encounter with him. :D So enjoy, and have fun watching the finale, everyone!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Forty Eight: Those Familiar Connections

It was no surprise to Carol when she fell ill a year after the world ended.

She went to bed one night feeling perfectly fine, and the next morning, she woke up with a sore throat and feverish skin. Before the world went to hell, she very rarely was sick. She had been healthy as a child and teenager, rarely feeling even slightly unwell. Of course she would only get sick when the only thing standing between her health and certain death was a strong immune system.

The group was enjoying a rare day of peace at the prison, so Carol remained in her cell, dozing off for intermediate periods. By midafternoon, her temperature was steadily increasing and Maggie had been in to check on her several times. Each time, she sent the young woman away with a reassuring smile and gentle wave of her hand. She wasn't used to anyone worrying about her, not when she was usually the one doing all the worrying. It was unsettling.

Nighttime rolled around quickly, with Carol turning down offers of squirrel stew for dinner from Glenn and Beth. She was feeling worse and worse, and all she wanted to do was sleep. As she lie there on her bunk, listening to the gentle sounds of voices and picking out bits and pieces of conversation, she fell into a deep, dark sleep.

* * *

When she opened her eyes again, she found herself standing in a small bedroom. For a moment she stood there, unsteady and weaving slightly on her feet. Where on earth was she? Closing her eyes, she waited until the dizziness retreated. Then she opened her eyes again and was greeted with the same strange surroundings. The room was sparsely decorated; she could see a twin sized bed and a small dresser. The only personal belongings she could see were several slightly-rusted Matchbox cars and a faded baseball glove and ball.

She was standing in a little boy's room, she realized as several drawings on the wall caught her eyes. She was about to move closer to them when she heard a small whimper coming from the closet just ahead of her and to her right. Without conscious thought, her feet carried her to the closet door. Her hand shook slightly as she reached out and cautiously opened the door. Her lips parted and her mouth formed a small 'o' of surprise at the sight before her.

A little boy of no more than four or five years old sat huddled on the floor of the closet. His knees were drawn up to his chest and his thin arms were wrapped tightly around his legs. His shaggy, light brown hair fell into his face, shielding his eyes from her. Before she even realized it, the urge to protect him took over.

Finally realizing someone was standing there, the boy lifted his chin and Carol was floored by his beautiful and hauntingly familiar blue eyes. He sniffled miserably and wiped at his eyes with filthy hands.

"Who're you?" he squeaked.

Before Carol could reply, a booming voice sent the boy scrambling into the corner of the closet and made Carol jump slightly.

"Daryl! The fuck you at, boy?"

The pieces suddenly slid into place for Carol. She didn't know how, but somehow she was in Daryl's bedroom, and sitting before her was Daryl. Footsteps boomed louder and louder, freezing her in place.

Daryl suddenly leapt out of the closet and grabbed her hand, pulling her into the closet with him and slamming the door shut.

Carol dropped to her knees as the bedroom door flung open and the distinct odor of whiskey and stale vomit wafted through the cracks of the closet door. Daryl scooted closer to her, his tiny body trembling. Extending an arm, Carol pulled the boy into her lap and held him protectively to her chest. He tucked his head under her chin and wrapped an arm around her neck, clinging to her desperately.

"Shh, shh," she whispered, burying her nose in his thick hair.

"Get yer ass out here, boy!" The elder Dixon's voice rattled the door, causing Carol to hold Daryl closer. No one had ever protected him before; she was going to change that right now. Her hand came up and cradled his head. He responded by burying his face in her neck and clinging more tightly to her.

"Everything's going to be okay, Daryl," she soothed as the door threatened to give way beneath the man's fists. "I've got you."

The door suddenly splintered, and Carol twisted to protect Daryl with her own body as artificial light poured into the closet and…

"Carol!"

* * *

"Carol, c'mon. Open yer eyes."

A gasp tore from Carol's throat as she bolted upright on the uncomfortable, prison-issue cot. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, threatening to explode. "Daryl!"

Daryl's worried face came into her line of vision. "'m right here, Carol. Calm down."

He was shocked when she flung her arm around his neck and pressed her face into his shoulder. His body tensed automatically, but he made no effort to disentangle himself from her. Relieved, Carol held him tightly and tried to make sense of the memories still lingering in the back of her mind.

Eventually Daryl's arms came up and cradled her uncertainly. "Ya okay?"

"I think so…"

"You were hollerin' for me. Thought something was wrong."

"Bad dream," she finally confided, her shuddering slowly subsiding as she relaxed in his embrace.

There was silence for a while before he finally replied, "I understan'."

_I know you do_, she thought as she instinctively nuzzled his shoulder.

They understood each other more than he would ever know.

The End.

A/N: Well, I did it! I got to meet Norman Reedus! He was quite possibly the sweetest guy I have ever met! I was a blubbering mess, and he just kept hugging me and calling me sweetheart! :D I got him to sign my Walking Dead: Survival Instinct game poster and gave him a little stuffed squirrel. I was also able to meet Lew Temple, and I so told him that I didn't like Axel. He was hilarious! LOL. I'm working on posting my encounter on Youtube. When it's up, you'll all be able to find it under the account MionaShulesLove. Thanks for reading, everyone, and here's hoping tonight's finale is AWESOME!


	49. Canyons

Carl finally makes it to the Grand Canyon, and he's not alone. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Forty Nine: Canyons

"We did it, Sophia."

Nineteen year old Carl Grimes stood with his head held high, his feet slightly apart and his father's hat resting on his head. Like the responsibility, it fit him much better now.

Almost a decade had passed since the dead rose up and began walking the earth. They had left the prison after two years there, and they had lost so many along the way. Sophia, his mom, Hershel, Beth… Tears burned his eyes as he stared down at the canyon stretching out in front of him.

"You okay, Carl?" a little voice asked. He smiled as Judith appeared beside him. Her long brown hair was pulled away from her face with a faded red ribbon, and her big brown eyes looked up at him questioningly. Judith was seven years old now and the hope of what remained of their group. Despite the horrors she had seen in her short life, she was happy and sweet and the best little sister he could have hoped for.

"Fine," he replied, resting his hand on her back. "Mom and Dad always wanted to come here. They tried once, when I was a baby."

"What happened?"

"I got sick. They had to turn around."

"Oh."

He didn't mention the moment in the car, one of the last times he had seen Sophia alive, when his dad had promised they would all come to the Grand Canyon together. It all seemed like a lifetime ago now, yet when he closed his eyes, he could see himself back in that car with his family, Sophia and Carol.

Judith looked up at him again. "It's real pretty here."

His mouth turned up in a small smile. "It sure is." He pulled her into his side and hugged her tight as he thought of Sophia's shy smile.

"It sure is."

The End.


	50. A Fangirl's Dream

For the fiftieth chapter of this story, I wanted to do something memorable. I think I've accomplished that with this totally insane crackfic/spoof. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Fifty: A Fangirl's Dream

The day started out as any other.

Carl was not in the prison.

Rick, too busy being chased by his dead wife's ghost, didn't notice his son was not in the prison. Why would he? Carl was twelve, already practically an adult! Ha!

In the tower, Maggie and Glenn were caught up in a passionate embrace. A walker climbed straight up the ladder, saw them, and promptly fell back to the ground in disgust.

Hershel, still missing a foot, was making a list of all the people in the prison. So far, Andrea, Shane's ghost, Lori's ghost, the Governor, and the preppy walker were on his naughty list. On the nice list was Daryl, Judith, and the squirrel Daryl had caught for a pet a week ago. Who would have figured Daryl would master his fear of squirrels and wind up adopting one?

Suddenly a young woman with the body of an amazon and long, flowing auburn/jet black/honey gold hair came bounding through the trees waving a katana. At her side was her trusty dog Spot and across her back was a crossbow remarkably similar to Daryl's (whom she had never met, even though she was really his long lost sister/daughter/twin/cousin/niece). Her name was Mary Sue, and she was so perfect that everyone loved her before they even knew her!

Back at the prison, Michonne sulked and looked at old Playboys she had stolen from Hershel/Santa Clause. That dirty old man needed to be on his own naughty list!

In the grass, Mary Sue was moving closer and closer when suddenly BAM! A single, perfectly placed bullet blew off half of her pretty little head and she fell to the ground, still as beautiful even with only half a face.

From the other watch tower, Judith lifted her head and smirked. No one would suspect the three week old baby capable of lifting her own head, let alone singlehandedly putting an end to the Mary Sue madness! She just laughed and disassembled her rifle, then climbed back into her crib and waited for Beth to sing to her.

In the prison, Daryl lifted his head when he heard the shot. His perfectly maintained and messy hair fell in his cerulean/azure/blue-green orbs of splendor. "The hell?"

Carol, panting and writhing beneath him on a bed of Cherokee roses and squirrel pelts, shook her head. "Keep going!" she begged, and somewhere in the dark, all the fangirls cheered and cheered and cheered…

The End.


	51. Beyond Absolution

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Fifty One: Beyond Absolution

She never should have let this happen.

She was a weak woman. How could she have been so reckless? Her husband was a good man, a wonderful and kind man, who didn't deserve any less than her complete and undying devotion. She knew that.

But here she was, lying tangled in the arms of his best friend and partner.

How could she have been so stupid?

Suddenly sick, Lori climbed out of her lover's arms and quickly gathered her clothes which were strewn carelessly all over the floor. Then she dressed herself and pulled on her shoes before she hurried out of his bedroom.

Rick would be home soon.

* * *

Six weeks later, Lori stared at the positive pregnancy test in front of her. She was going to have a baby. This should have been the happiest moment of her life, but it wasn't. Instead she was just sick. The baby was Rick's; it had to be. But she had slept with Shane, and she didn't remember if they used protection or not. There was the small chance the baby she carried could belong to her husband's partner, and not her husband.

Another wave of nausea hit her. She could hear Rick just outside the bathroom door, asking if she was okay. He was the sweetest, kindest man she had ever known, and she had betrayed him in the worst way possible. But she didn't want to lose him. She couldn't lose him. So she made the choice right then and there. No matter the baby's biology, he was her husband's child. She would never tell Shane the possible truth, and she would go on in her life with Rick. Everything would be fine.

Feeling more settled, she finally stood up and opened the bathroom door. "Rick, I'm pregnant."

The undeniable joy on his face as she spoke was enough to confirm her thoughts. He pulled her into her arms and kissed her, and she let him.

Everything was going to be okay.

The End.


	52. And When the Mourning Comes

As much as I love the idea of Carol bearing Daryl a son, this is a more likely scenario.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Fifty-Two: And When the Mourning Comes

She should have known there was no such thing as happily ever after.

Carol sat on her bunk, her knees together and her head cradled in her hands. The last few months had been going so well. The group had left the prison and settled on a large farm on the outskirts of Georgia. The men had been able to gather material and build several smaller houses on the property, giving everyone just enough room to be comfortable. Rick, Michonne, Carl and Judith shared the upstairs of the farmhouse while Hershel, Glenn, Maggie and Beth shared the downstairs. There were three smaller houses built on the property and shared by the residents of Woodbury. Then there was a small cabin situated at the edge of the property that was shared by Carol and Daryl. She wasn't sure exactly when they became an item; it simply happened like a force of nature. In a way they had always been an item. Now it was out there for everyone to see.

Three months ago, Carol had found out she was pregnant. Daryl had panicked when he first found out, but after going on a long hunting trip, he came back ready to accept this massive shift between the two of them. He made sure Carol ate before anyone else and when he left the farm, he made sure someone was with her at all times. He was adapting quickly, and now it was all falling apart again.

A few feet away, her blood soaked underwear was on the floor. Her abdomen cramped as she leaned forward and cried again. She had been pregnant so many times before Sophia that she lost count. She always figured she lost them because of the violence she suffered at Ed's hands. Daryl had never raised a cruel hand to her and yet she had still lost this baby, too.

A sob shook her thin body. She was underweight and their world was a cruel one, but she had been happier and safer than she ever was with Ed. So why was this happening? Why had she lost this baby?

How was this fair?

Sick to her stomach, Carol curled up on the bed Daryl had hand-crafted for them and buried her face in his pillow. He would be home soon and she would have to tell him their baby was dead. Would he be relieved? Would he finally snap and disappear for good? The thought of losing him made it hard for her to breathe. She gripped his pillow and sobbed into the soft material.

She was a fool to think there was such a thing as happily ever after.

The End.


	53. This Sorrowful Loss

Due to the demands (and several threats), here's the sequel to And When the Mourning Comes. Thanks for five hundred reviews, everyone!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Fifty-Three: This Sorrowful Loss

Daryl knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into the cabin he shared with Carol. He had been hunting for the better part of the morning and he had even managed to snag a good sized buck for the group. He had dropped the buck off at the farmhouse after skinning it; Maggie and Beth were thrilled and he even tolerated a few pats on the back before taking off for his cabin. He reeked and was looking forward to a shower and stretching out with his woman for a while. But when he walked into the cabin, he was hit by a sense of impending doom. His eyes immediately sought out Carol.

She was curled up in their bed, her face buried in a pillow and her small frame shaking. He began to feel sick. Nothing had seemed out of place when he delivered the deer meat to Beth and Maggie. There was no talk of walkers or anyone being bitten. Everything seemed fine for once.

Clearly he was wrong.

Shifting uncomfortable, he called out to Carol. She raised her head slightly and he was taken aback by her red eyes. "Jesus, woman, what happened?" His feet began carrying him toward her.

She burst into a sob just as he reached the bed and it startled him. Panic was taking over as he took her into his arms and ran his hands up and down her body. "Carol, talk to me," he murmured anxiously. "Are ya okay?"

She buried her face in his shoulder and her next words shattered his heart.

"I lost the baby."

Their baby was gone… He had just come to terms with the idea of being a father, of fathering Carol's child, and just like that it was gone. A sense of loss so deep and consuming hit him, leaving him floundering. Not knowing what else to do, he held Carol tighter as she sobbed into his shoulder.

There was little else he could do.

The End.


	54. Never Gonna Be Alone

I think it's high time for some less sad stuff. Enjoy, everyone!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Chapter Fifty-Four: Never Gonna Be Alone

When the prison fell, no one was prepared.

They had known the Governor was out there, alive somewhere, and as a group they had made some plans for what to do if the prison was attacked. Of everyone, Daryl was the most prepared. He had devised an escape route for each member of the group so they could meet up fifty miles away. If anything happened, Glenn would take Hershel, Maggie and Beth; Rick would take his children and Michonne; Daryl would grab Carol and head off on his bike. But this plan was made before the people from Woodbury were a consideration, so when walkers poured in through the prison fence, chaos erupted everywhere.

Rick and Michonne sprang into action immediately. They set about attacking the walkers while Beth grabbed Judith and Carl ushered the younger kids inside, shouting for Daryl. A few moments later, he appeared with his crossbow and began taking out walkers.

Five minutes later, they had barely made a dent and more were coming from beyond the trees. Fear seized Daryl as Rick screamed, "Fall back!"

Daryl heard Carol shout at him and it caught him off guard for a moment, and a moment was all it took. He felt a walker's rotting teeth sink into his arm and he bellowed in rage as his arm burned.

"Daryl!"

* * *

Carol saw the walker latch onto Daryl's arm and sink its teeth into his flesh. For a moment, she couldn't breathe. Then she swung into action. Nothing could touch her as she flew to Daryl. Moments before she reached him, he hit his knees. She thrust her knife into the walker's forehead and shoved it away from Daryl. "Glenn, watch my back!" she screamed. The young Korean boy dispatched several walkers around them as Carol shoved Daryl onto his back and straddled his waist. Clearly in shock, he lay there beneath her and stared up helplessly.

"Hang on, Daryl," she muttered as she tore a long strip from her shirt and tied it tightly just a few inches above the bite mark marring his skin. There was no time to think or discuss what she had to do. She grabbed a hatchet from the grass and brought it down with all of her strength.

Daryl screamed once before falling silent, twisting Carol's gut. It took two more swings before the infected limb was severed and she allowed the hatchet to fall from her bloody hand.

"We gotta get outta here!" Rick screamed. Carol looked up and saw even more walkers approaching the prison. Swearing, she pulled Daryl to his feet and held his uninjured arm around her shoulders. She met Rick's eyes briefly; they shared the same thought.

_Get him out of here_.

She pulled Daryl toward the prison gate. Maggie was in the tower picking off walkers and Carol was grateful when the young woman gave her a clear path to Daryl's truck. Daryl leaned more and more on her as she struggled toward his truck, but finally she was able to shove him into the cab and slam the door shut. One walker stood in her way as she darted toward the driver's side, but she easily took it out and got into the cab with Daryl. She locked the doors and looked over at her injured companion. He was slumped against the door; his eyes were closed and his complexion was pale.

Carol grabbed the hidden key from underneath the mat and started the truck. The engine roared to life and she slammed her foot against the gas pedal, sending dirt flying everywhere.

"Hang on, Daryl. I'm getting you out of here."

* * *

Carol drove for hours, stopping only occasionally to check on Daryl's condition. He remained unconscious but his skin was cool to her touch, lacking the beginning of a telltale fever. Cutting his arm off would be traumatic for him when he awoke, but it was much better than losing him entirely.

Just before sundown, she stopped again and turned toward Daryl. Her stomach churned as she unwrapped his arm and quickly wrapped it again with a clean rag. As she was securing it in place, his eyes flickered open.

"Carol…"

His thick drawl sent her heart into overdrive. With a watery smile, she gently brushed his damp hair out of his face. "Everything's okay, Daryl. Just close your eyes and sleep."

Nodding, he gave her a sleepy smile before his head lolled against the window again. She exhaled deeply and finished wrapping his arm before she started the truck again.

A little less than an hour later, Carol found the house where the group had agreed to meet if they were ever separated. She would stay there with Daryl for as long as she safely could, and if no one else arrived, the two of them would move on. The thought of losing their entire group was frightening and painful, but she couldn't help finding herself a little grateful for having Daryl there with her. They would keep each other safe.

Parking the truck, Carol climbed out with her gun and knife at the ready. The area seemed to be completely deserted; no stench of death or decay touched the air. She breathed in deeply and sighed, her body still tensed and ready to fight. Looking over her shoulder, she was satisfied to see Daryl still resting. Slowly she tucked the gun away and entered the two story house. There was no way she would bring Daryl inside before giving the place a thorough inspection. So she made her way from room to room, her eyes sharp and focused. Whoever had lived there before this all happened had left in a hurry. Family photos were missing from the walls, clothing was strewn about, and to Carol's delight, there was canned food and bottled water in the kitchen cupboards. After taking a moment to revel in her find, Carol headed upstairs. There was a layer of dust on everything, but there were no bodies upstairs, either. In the master bedroom was a king sized bed and a large bathroom complete with a bathtub. With a hopeful heart, Carol turned the faucet on. Rust colored water emerged first, followed by clean water. Carol laughed and turned the water back off. If she was lucky, maybe there would be a generator somewhere.

Backing out of the bathroom, she continued to explore the house. She found three bedrooms in addition to the master bedroom, an attic, and two more bedrooms downstairs as well as a living room and a small library. Whoever had owned this home was clearly very well-off. Finally feeling the house was safe, she went back outside and to the truck to retrieve Daryl.

Daryl was still sleeping when Carol opened the door. Leaning up, she placed her hand against the side of his face. "Daryl?"

He grumbled and shifted, muttering softly.

A smile touched her lips. "Come on, Daryl. I found a real bed for you."

One cerulean eye cracked open. "Huh?"

"A bed." She held out her arms to him. "Just come with me unless you want to sleep in the truck all night."

He nodded and finally began to move. Carol watched his movements like a hawk, her body tensed and ready to grab him if he fell. Slowly he climbed from the cab, but as his foot came down, he lost his balance and tumbled into Carol's arms. Carol instinctively locked her arms around him and hugged him tightly to her as he breathed hard into her neck.

This was going to be harder than she thought.

She gave him a few minutes in that position before she began guiding him into the house. She wasn't sure he could make it upstairs after the blood loss he had suffered, so she took him to the bedroom closest to the kitchen. The bed wasn't very clean but after she stripped it of the blankets and sheets, she found the mattress itself was still in good shape. Since the air was hot, almost stifling, she helped Daryl to the bed before she went to the windows and opened them to allow a cool breeze into the room. By the time she turned around, Daryl was sound asleep on the bed. Carol allowed herself a moment of watching him before she gathered the blankets and sheets and quietly left the room.

If she was lucky, there would be laundry detergent somewhere.

* * *

Carol spent the night alternating between watching for the rest of their group and monitoring Daryl's condition. He slept well for a change, only waking when she checked his wound and brought him water. By dawn she was exhausted and her hope was crumbling. If anyone else had survived, surely they would have made it to the house by now.

When she brought water to Daryl again, to her surprise, he was awake and watching for her. She saw relief in his beautiful eyes when she entered the room. "Hey."

"Hey," he gruffed.

Opening the bottle of water, she sat down on the edge of the bed and held the bottle to his lips. He begrudgingly latched on and emptied the water quickly. When it was gone, she set the bottle aside and stifled a yawn.

He gave her a hard look. "Ya haven't slept," he accused lightly.

"You needed the sleep more," she countered.

"'m awake now." He slapped the bed with his good hand. "Ya need to sleep, too."

"Daryl-"

"Don' argue with me." His eyes were fierce and full of challenge.

Sighing, Carol looked longingly at the empty space by his side. She hadn't slept in a real bed since this whole nightmare had started.

"Carol…"

Surrendering, Carol stretched out alongside Daryl and tucked her arm under her head. She was close enough to feel his warmth and she was reassured. He was going to be okay. "Daryl?"

"Hmm?"

She pressed her forehead against his hip. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He was quiet for a long time. "Don' be sorry," he finally growled. "Ya saved my life. I owe ya."

"You don't owe me anything. You survived, Daryl." She buried her face in his hip and rested her hand on his thigh. "You survived."

His next move shocked her. He placed his hand on her head and slowly began stroking her short hair. The touch thrilled and soothed her, and before she realized what was happening, she was fast asleep tucked against his side.

* * *

The sound of voices awoke Carol from her sleep and she instinctively reached for Daryl. His side of the bed was cold and she reluctantly opened her eyes and sat up.

"Mornin', Sleepin' Beauty."

She turned her head toward the door and smiled. Daryl was standing in the doorway, looking relaxed and very much at home in his bare feet and a clean change of clothes. Obviously he'd had a few problems; his button up shirt was left open and his jeans were unbuttoned. Carol decided she didn't mind the view at all.

"Like what ya see?"

"Stop it," she shot back as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. "How long was I out?"

"A while. The rest of the group found us."

Hope swelled in her chest. "Who made it?"

"Rick and the kids, Glenn, Maggie and Beth."

"Hershel?"

He gave a small shake of his head and her heart dropped a little. "Didn't make it."

Judith's cry echoed through the house. Carol crossed the floor and paused by Daryl. They had suffered so much pain and loss, but in that brief moment as their eyes met, Carol had an epiphany of sorts. No matter what happened, she would have him and he would have her. She had removed his arm to save his life, and she had no doubts about what lengths he would go to for her in the same situation. They would always protect each other because they were really the only family they had left in this twisted world.

On an impulse, Carol leaned up and kissed Daryl's lips softly. As she withdrew, she noticed his eyes were wide and wild.

"The hell was that for?"

She just smiled.

"Because with you, I'm never going to be alone."

She left Daryl standing there, holding his fingers to his mouth and wondering just what had shifted between the two of them.

The End.


End file.
